Angel
by Foxotr
Summary: Today might just be her lucky day. If she played her cards right maybe one of the intruders would have the sense to blow her brains out. “Well hello there, sweetness,” a deep, sinister voice called to her from the entrance of the vault behind her.
1. The Vault

_The streets of Gotham were filled with unsuspecting people. Dr. Jonathan Crane's fear toxin had been mass produced, unknown to the citizens of Gotham, and was about to be released through Gotham's water supply into the air; infecting everyone who even breathed with horrible, uncontrollable fear. Nobody saw it coming, they didn't see it coming._

_Eric Harvey, the only man she'd ever loved was walking her back to her apartment after a date that night. He was in such a good mood. He was happier than she'd ever seen him before.  
_

_He was kissing her goodnight, the last kiss he would ever give her. It was so short and she would live to regret that. She asked him why he was so happy. He never got a chance to answer as they both saw the strange mist rising through the air.  
_

_In an instant everything changed. Her eyes were seeing a whole new Gotham and her heart was about to beat right out of her chest. She was so incredibly __**afraid**__. She couldn't control it. It was such a horrible feeling that she would __**never**__ forget. Everything looked grotesque and horrible. She just wanted to get away from it all. She felt like death was coming for her and she just wanted to be alone. She didn't want death to come for her then._

_She turned to where Eric had been standing, but she didn't see Eric, she saw a hideous monster; death. It was like a grotesque reanimated corpse. She was so afraid she could hardly even breathe. She screamed for help, but no help came. The Batman didn't swoop down to save her or anything. He was busy saving other people, people who deserved it. Why did she need saving anyways?_

_The corpse was reaching for her. It started to grab her with its cold, dead hand. Worms and maggots were crawling off of him onto her hand. She was infested with them. They were eating her. If she could just get his hand off of her she was sure they would go away._

_ She saw something lying on the street then. It was a large pipe. She picked it up and went to defend herself. She hit the corpse with it as hard as she could. She kept hitting it and hitting it. She wanted to be sure it was no longer going to get her. She hit its head until it fell to the ground. It was gone, but the bugs were still on her. She backed into the nearest wall and sat down. She sat there screaming for help, desperately trying to get the bugs off. Help never came. _

_She sat there so long she had lost track of time. She just remembered her vision coming back to normal, the bugs were gone. She had scratched cuts into her arms and face trying to get the bugs away, but she didn't care about the pain. She just wanted to find Eric. _

_It didn't take her long to find him. She found her Eric lying dead in the street. A large pipe lay on the ground next to him. She realized she hadn't gotten rid of a__** corpse**__, she had killed her beloved Eric. With her own fucking hands she had bashed the head of the only man she had ever loved in.  
_

_She took one last look at him and ran up to her apartment. She had to get away. She would never tell anyone that she had been the one to take Eric's life. She simply shut herself down and lived her life carrying her horrible burden. Her terrible secret that made her a monster would plague her for the rest of her miserable life._

Angeline Perkins sighed bringing herself back to reality. She slowly turned the lock on the large vault. She heaved the huge metal door open and stared inside with a bored sigh. She hated going through the dull motions of her everyday life. Why the hell did she even bother? She reminded herself she only kept this bullshit job to pay her bullshit rent and live her bullshit life. If that's what you could even call it.

Sighing, Angeline remembered why she came into the vault in the first place. She was just reaching for a bag of money when she heard a loud crash outside of the vault. She stopped dead in her movements when she began to hear screams coming from outside and shots. Someone started screaming orders. A smile began to creep across her face, something she hardly did anymore. Today might just be her lucky day. If she played her cards right maybe one of the intruders would have the sense to blow her fucking brains out.

"Well _hello_ there, sweetness," a deep, sinister voice called to her from the entrance of the vault behind her.

Angeline, still smiling, turned to look her death in the face. What the hell? It looked as if she was going to be murdered by some asshole in a dark purple suit wearing _make-up. _And what was with those _scars_ on his mouth? She let a laugh escape from her smiling lips. Whatever, she'd take death by clown.

Was she really _laughing?_ That _smile._ Something was different about this woman. He was used to horrified screams and the petrified deer caught in headlights look whenever he entered a room. Maybe she was just a fighter. The thought of cutting those pretty pink lips of hers open with his knife while she screamed for mercy brought a smile to his mangled lips and a chuckle rising in his throat. He liked a challenge.

He danced over to her letting his smile spread wider across his face. He reached into his jacket and pulled out his trusty knife in one swift movement, taking one last stride to be right in front of the smiling bitch. He ran his tongue along his lips and met her fearless gaze, "What's the matter, beautiful? Cat got your tongue?"

Was this jack ass serious? Of all the murderous psychopaths in Gotham she had the luck of running into _this _joker. She sniffed out a short laugh and rolled her eyes, crossing her arms in front of her to show her lack of amusement.

Before she knew it, he had reached out one strong, purple gloved hand and shoved her flat on her back to the floor. She felt him straddle her and his gloved hand took her jaw in a firm grip. She felt a cool sharpness at one edge of her mouth. His white painted face was so close to hers she could feel his breath on the skin of her face. She felt strands of his curly, greasy green hair tickling the sides of her face. His eyes, masked in black circles, bore down into her blue immune eyes. She knew he was getting off on this. He expected to see fear in her cold, dead eyes, but she had no fear. She figured any _normal_ woman would probably be a disgusting wreck of fear and tears if they were in her place right now, but she wasn't a _normal_ woman, and this murdering clown straddling her with a knife pressed into her lips was making her so happy she couldn't help but let a giggle come up through her throat.

Maybe he wasn't pressing hard enough. He eased the knife harder into the corner of her pale pink lips, watching blood ooze down her lips to her chin and onto his hand. He spoke in almost a whisper to her, "Come on now, beautiful. If the _cat_ hasn't got your tongue then maybe _I'll_ go ahead and take it. Don't be rude. Didn't your mother ever tell you to be _polite_ to your guests, hm? Haven't you got _any _manners? You haven't even introduced yourself, sweetness. Now, come on. Show me a little _hospitality_, huh?"

She was getting under his skin now. It was only a matter of time before this joker used his knife to release her from her miserable excuse of a life. What was dripping down her cheeks? _Tears?_ She was so happy she was actually _crying_ as he eased the knife still harder into her mouth and she tasted the rusty blood.

Ah ha! Tears. He had her now. Wait a minute. Those weren't the kind of tears he was used to. He still saw a complete fog of happiness glazing her tear-filled eyes. He'd never seen someone crying _happy_ tears before, let alone had he ever been the one to ever _make_ someone cry happy tears. He'd had enough of this bullshit. He was pissed now.  
She felt his grip on her jaw tighten. He was glaring down at her, maybe as a last ditch effort to make his little scarred, painted face scare her before he ended her life. It wasn't happening, the more he glared the more she smiled. The end was coming.

"Aw gee, honey. Happy to see me? Huh?" He bent his face down to let his lips touch the skin of her pale cheek. He sent out his tongue; snake-like, to lick one of her salty tears. Yuck, definitely not the kind of tear he was used to. Too sweet. Maybe it was time he told her about the scars.

"Hey," his grip became vice like around her jaw. "Look at me!"

She raised one eyebrow and stared back into his dark eyes. Now what?

"Would you like to know how I got these scars?" he licked both corners of his mouth while he said it to point out the scars.

She hated it, but she had to admit that she _was_ curious. What could have happened to cause this man to have large bubbled scars on both sides of his mouth? They created the illusion that he was somehow _always_ smiling. Had someone done this to him or had he done it to himself? Oh well, curiosity killed the cat and if she was lucky it would kill her too.

"Yes," her voice came out muffled from his hand gripping at her. "How did you get those scars?"

A smile spread across his lips and laughter rose up into his throat, "Ah, she _speaks!_"

He lifted the top half of his body away from hers, still straddling her, to sit up. With her jaw still firmly gripped in his hand he pulled her face up to look at him properly. He kept the knife in place at the corner of her mouth.

"Well, y'see, I was an unhappy kid growing up. Y'know bad childhood and all that bullshit. My parents didn't give two _shits_ about me. Told me they wished I'd never even been _born_. So one day Daddy comes home after a particularly bad day on the job. He looks at me and says, 'What's with you, kid? Why don't you ever _smile?!'_ Now, he's so mad he's decided to use me as his own personal punching bag. He beats the ever living _shit_ out of me, but y'see I'm still not smiling. He screams at me, 'Smile! Goddamnit _smile!_' And do y'know what he does next? _DO YOU?!_"

She jumped slightly as he screamed that last part at her. She was still curious. She had to know. "What does he do?"

He lowered his voice, smacked his lips and placed them by her ear. "My own _father_ came at me with a knife. He made sure to put a _smile_ on my face that day. A smile I would have _every_ day." He pulled away from her ear to look her in the eyes and grin. "Now I'm _always_ smiling. Now I _always_ see the funny side."

She couldn't help what happened next. She didn't believe his little story. Not for one second. He put on such a good show that any transparent gullible moron would have believed him, but she didn't. She still wasn't scared. She started to shake with laughter under him.

The little _bitch!_ She was laughing? _Laughing_ at him?! He felt a strange mixture of confusion and rage bubbling inside him. He pulled the knife out of her mouth and threw it to the side. With both of his hands he grasped both sides of her face and with a snarl he threw her head back into the floor with force. He watched with joy as the smile faded from her laughing face and her eyes rolled back into her head and closed. He shook with violent laughter as he bent down to run his tongue along the length of her face. "Good night, beautiful. Don't let the bed bugs bite!"


	2. Angel of Death

Angeline opened her eyes to darkness. She couldn't see anything at all. She could _feel_ something, though. Her head was throbbing beyond belief. She wanted to _scream_ it hurt so much, but she was confused. Where was she and why was it so fucking _dark?_ Judging by the horrible pain she felt, she knew that asshole hadn't killed her like she wanted.

"Sleep well?" a smug voice asked from right beside her.

She tensed and tried to move away from him. Shit. Something had her restrained. It felt like ropes. She was laying down on something. It felt like a rather lumpy old mattress. She obviously wasn't alone as she could still hear his even breaths and occasional lip smacking right beside her.

He had been so confused and angry he had acted on pure instinct. Sure he could have killed her, hell he wanted to, but something stopped him. He was used to seeing exactly who someone was in their last moments from those little emotions they let escape. That was his favorite part about killing people and the whole reason he enjoyed using a knife instead of a gun. It was so much more personal and intimate and it gave him a better look at who people really were. He hadn't been able to see her clearly. She hadn't let him. He wouldn't have been able to see who she _really_ was and that just took all the _fun_ out of the whole thing. So, he had dragged her back to his place and waited for her to wake back up. He may not have killed her, but that didn't mean that he wasn't pissed enough to give her one hell of a concussion. Now came the fun part, though. Now he got to _make_ her show him exactly who she _really _was. He didn't care how long it took; he simply had to break her. She had picked the wrong man to lie to.

"No thanks to _you,_" she finally answered. She heard him start chuckling. He sure did like to laugh. Maybe it came with the make-up. She felt him move next to her and her skin began to crawl as she felt his fingers on top of her aching head, running through her hair. His fingers ducked under her head, sliding slowly and carefully along until they reached their destination. She couldn't help but scream in pain as his fingers pressed down onto the huge lump she had received from his little temper tantrum in the vault.

"A little _sore_ are we, sweetness?" he laughed, still keeping his fingers in place on the back of her head.

She gritted her teeth and balled her hands into fists to help her manage the pain. "No, not at all. I feel _GREAT_. Thank you _so much._"

He pressed his fingers harder into the lump he had given her. He laughed a short guffaw as she let out a short cry of pain. He lowered his face to her ear and spoke in a rough whisper, "Now, now, sweetness. Shhh. Shh. You've got quite the, uh, _temper_ haven't you, hm? There's no need to scream, y'know. It hurts your head doesn't it? Not to mention, I don't think anybody else but _me_ can hear you, sweetness."

She was furious with this joker. He'd fed her bullshit lies and gave her a lump the size of fucking _Texas_ on her head, then dragged her back to this; what was this anyways? His fortress of darkness? He didn't have the decency or the sense to kill her. Instead he wanted to play games. Well, two could play this game.

"Why did you chicken out on killing me?"

He laughed and moved his free hand in front of her face and placed a bare finger lightly on her lips. "Shh shh shush sweetness. I'm the one who's asking the questions. Now you'll, uh, be giving me answers. Real answers."

She smiled and spoke with his finger still pressed lightly to her swollen lip. She'd forgotten until he'd touched her lips that he'd also stuck a knife in her mouth. "Maybe I will, but only if you answer what I just asked first."

He laughed darkly and moved his finger along her lips to touch the knife wound at the corner of her mouth. "I didn't _chicken out,_ sweetness. If I had killed you then I wouldn't have been killing the _real_ you. Y'see, sweetness, I'm actually a pretty good judge of _character._ This tough girl without any fear thing you're doing here is, uh, well it's an _act_. A poor one too. This," he traced his finger over the wound and around her face. "This isn't _you_. You _wanted_ me to cut you up into a million pieces. I saw it in your eyes. Y'know I just wasn't feeling all that, uh, _generous_."

"So you didn't kill me because you think I'm _acting_? Really? Look who's _talking_," she snarled.

He laughed long and hard until he abruptly stopped and he spoke in a serious tone. "This isn't about _me_. Now you know that I won't kill you _yet_, so uh, it may be in your best interest to keep in mind that I will _not _hesitate to make your life a living _hell_ ok? I'm not opposed to causing you more _pain_. So, you want to start answering my questions now?"

She had to admit she didn't think she could tolerate anymore head injuries today. She'd play his little game for now. "What do you want to know?"

Let the games begin! "Hmmm. Well, how about a _name_, sweetness."

"Angeline. My name is Angeline Perkins."

He giggled slightly. "Well, _Angeline_, it's a _pleasure_ to meet you."

He really was enjoying himself with this, she could tell. "Yeah, a real _pleasure_."

He pressed his fingers lightly onto the lump on her head again and ran his thumb over the knife wound on the corner of her mouth. "Oh now, Angeline, come on. No hard feelings over these little, uh, _gifts_, hm?"

She winced at the fresh wave of pain and the warmth of his rough thumb on her mouth. She didn't like hearing him say her name. He said it too genuine. He said it almost like…

"So, Angel, if I you don't _mind_ me calling you that, how long have you lived in Gotham?"

"I don't give a shit what you call me and I've lived in Gotham my whole life."

He laughed a little. It was almost a child's laugh. "Good. Now tell me, do you _like_ living in Gotham, Angel? Hm?"

"I never used to mind it. Back when the biggest worry was winding up in the slums or being taken down by the mob. That I could deal with, I guess. A _worthless_ vigilante, though, I can't deal with. He ruined Gotham."

Now this certainly _was_ interesting. How peculiar they share a similar view on the Batman. He could hear the hatred in her voice. "I thought everyone in Gotham, except the uh _mob_, liked the Batman. What's the matter, Angel? Don't like bats?"

"I just don't like that particular one is all."

"That's not a very clear reason, y'know. Care to _elaborate_?"

"_No_. Next question, please."

He laughed briefly. "Ok sure, but we'll come back to that. You _will_ answer all of my questions. Now, tell me, was I right? Did you _want_ me to kill you? Huh?"

She paused for a moment before answering him. "Yes. I did."

"And these?" he fingered her knife wound and lump. "Did they hurt, Angel?"

"No. Not until I woke up and realized I wasn't _dead_."

"So you really weren't afraid of me? The scars? They didn't _repulse_ you?"

"No. I guess I was happy to see you, a little taken aback by the make-up and all, but still happy. I thought you were my angel of death, I guess. I mean, how could I be afraid of you if I thought you were giving me what I so desperately wanted? The scars aren't really repulsive, you know. They just made me…curious."

He was _almost_ shocked. The scars usually repulsed everyone. Everyone feared him. Everyone hated his repulsive scars. Then again, though, he didn't usually run into crazy suicidal women.

"Do you still want me to kill you? Would you be happy still now if I was to like, _strangle_ you, maybe?" He moved both of his hands around her throat and clenched down hard cutting off her airways.

He didn't feel her struggling, didn't feel anything different. He still couldn't sense fear from her. He had his answer. He let go of her throat and reached into his pocket to pull out a switchblade. He brought the blade up to her jaw line. "And, uh, if I was to maybe slit your throat right here? Would you still be _happy_, Angel?"

She felt the knife cut slightly into her skin. He was testing her. "Yes. I would."

"I could kill you a _million_ different ways, Angel. I'm good at it, y'know," he laughed smugly, then retracted the knife and put it back into his pocket. He leaned in to sniff at her neck. He still couldn't smell fear. It deeply troubled him to not smell that familiar scent he knew so well. This scent was new and strange to him. He sent his tongue out and ran it along her neck, tasting the fresh blood from the new cut. Like her tears, even her blood tasted too sweet and all _wrong_.

She felt shivers run down her spine from the touch of his warm tongue on her skin. She _hated _the way it made her feel. She knew she should be repulsed or scared even, but she wasn't. If she was being honest with herself, she'd say she liked it. That she almost _thrilled_ to his touch. No. She'd rather lie. This was _wrong_.

An alarm started to beep in the dark room. She felt him get off the bed and heard him shut the alarm off. She heard him slip something on. If she had to guess, she would guess it was his purple trench coat. She listened until she heard him walk to her other side. He turned a switch and opened a door. The light pouring in from the outside hurt her eyes, but when her eyes re focused she saw his tall, hunched figure illuminated and shadowed by the light in the doorway. Her angel of death.

"It's been fun, Angel, it really has. But I've got some, uh, _business_, to attend to. So be a good girl now, and don't uh," he paused to laugh. "Don't go anywhere."

She could almost make out a smile on his face before he shut the door and locked it behind him. The light was gone. _He_ was gone. She was _alone_ and she hated to admit it, but she was _scared_.


	3. Not a Monster

_His warm mangled lips covered hers in frenzy. She felt his strong, rough hands cupped around her face holding her to him. Her hands were knotted in his hair pressing him into her, begging for more. She wanted him and he wanted her. They knew nothing else but this and felt nothing more than each others frenzied bodies._

_He laughed slightly and his lips became more urgent on her neck until he came back to her lips. She moved a strand of his curly green hair out of his face so she could look at his face completely. His make-up was horribly smudged and mostly gone, no doubt it was all over her, and she could finally see him. The man beneath the make-up stared back at her, studying her. She reached up to run her fingers along his brutal scars and over his lips. The scars felt soft and warm under her fingertips. _

Angeline woke to a warm, calloused hand shaking her. She gasped, trying to collect her thoughts. Had she actually _dreamt_ all of that? She laughed in spite of herself. He really _was_ making her crazy.

"Bad dream?" he mused beside her.

She hated to admit it, but she felt an odd sort of relief that he was back now. She was also glad to see sunlight seeping in through the dark window coverings. She wasn't alone in the dark anymore. She laughed again. She really _was _going crazy. "What's it matter to you?"

He chuckled for a moment then reached out his hand to touch her cheek. He was touching wetness; _a tear_. He wiped the tear down along her face and pressed the salty remains from his fingertip onto her lips. "Dreams are, uh, they're ___funny_, aren't they? Sometimes they can give away our deepest _darkest_ secrets or, uh, make us _relive_ things we wanted to___forget__._ You were crying in your sleep, sweetness. Y'know... I think you should probably tell me what you were dreaming about, hm?"

She glared up at him. "It was nothing."

He leaned his face closer to hers and glared at her giving her a half smile. "Angel, I think you'd better _tell_ me. I'm, uh, I'm _curious_. That and, well, hasn't anyone ever told you it's not polite to___lie__?_ "

Oh my god. She vowed never to fall asleep again. Not if she was going to peak his interest every time she did. She thought up a quick lie. _Anything _was better than the truth in this case. The truth was _crazy_ and _wrong_.

"It was nothing. Just a stupid dream about some movie I watched."

He watched her eyes closely as she spoke. She was _lying _to him. He quickly turned her face to look at him, keeping a firm grip on her jaw. He grinned back at her questioning eyes. "You _really_ must think I'm a fucking _idiot_, Angel. It was a _nice __story_, but I'm not buying it. Let's talk about this some more, _shall we_?"

He nodded his head and used his grip on her jaw to force her to nod her head back. He continued where he had left off. "Now, you were _really_ crying. What were you _really_ dreaming about? Hm? Oh, I know! Have you got a _boyfriend_, sweetness? Is _that_ it? Were you crying for _him_? You really _should_ tell me if you _do_. I want to know if I have to plan for some _jock_ coming after me to save his _precious little Angel_. I want to, uh, be _prepared_, y'know? So come on, sweetness. Who's the lucky _bastard_? Hm? Tell me _now_."

Her eyes grew distant and sad. She wasn't lying now. She simply just didn't want to have this conversation. "No. I don't have a boyfriend. Nobody is going to come avenging my disappearance. I doubt anyone even gives a shit. You're safe, ok? Happy?"

He wasn't smiling and he wasn't laughing. He was looking at her; _really_ looking at her. She had sad blue eyes. Even with a knife wound to her lips and some scattered bruises on her face, he had to admit she was beautiful. He was a man, after all. When he had run his fingers through her long black hair he had thought it was so soft. It actually felt nice in his fingers. Looking at her now, as a man, he had a hard time believing this beautiful woman was single. That she was alone.

"So no boyfriends, then? _Ever_? Come on, Angel. You can _tell_ me."

She looked at his prying eyes. She bit her lip and closed her eyes shut tight. _Damn him_.

He shook her head with his hand and raised his voice firmly. "_Answer me, Angel_! _Now!_"

Her voice came out harsh and distant. "_Once_. He's _gone_, ok? He's fucking _dead_! Is that what you wanted to hear? Are you happy now? Jesus, why didn't you just fucking _kill_ me?"

He'd hit a sore spot, and not the lump on the back of the head kind of sore spot. Now he just simply needed to know about this dead boyfriend. He had a hunch from the way she'd responded, the way she'd looked when she told him, that it was something crucial to who she was.

He laughed a little. His voice was mockingly sympathetic. "Aww. Now, now, Angel. _Calm down_. Tell me what _happened_, sweetness. What happened to your _dearest_ boyfriend, hm? Hope it wasn't _my_ fault."

"_No_. Please. I... I don't want to talk about it, ok?"

He grinned at her and then leaned in close to her, his face becoming darkly serious. "Do I _look_ like I _care_ if you don't feel like telling me, Angel? Didn't I explain the _rules_ of the, uh, _game_ to you? I ask a question and you _answer_ it. I don't like people who don't _follow my rules_, Angel. It makes me angry and I'm usually not an _angry_ person, I'm usually a pretty, uh, _fun_ guy. So _don't _make me angry, _sweetie_. Answer my question. _Now._ Y'see, patience is a, uh, _virtue_ that I _lack._"

She shut her eyes tight to block his face out. She remembered what had happened so clearly. It was the most vivid memory in her mind. It wouldn't be hard to tell, except that she had never told anyone about this before. She never wanted anyone to know, but what did it matter if she told him? Hell, maybe he'd feel generous and would kill her afterward. Or maybe it would feel good to finally tell someone; to tell him.

Frustrated, she opened her eyes and saw him staring intently at her waiting for her to tell him. So, she would tell him her horrible secret.

"Fine," she locked eyes with his, swallowing the lump in her throat. "I'll play your game your way. I'll tell you."

He grinned at her, pleased with himself. He smoothed out his shirt, adjusted his tie and leaned closer to her to give her his full attention. "Good girl. Go on, Angel. I'm _listening_."

She took a deep breath, composing herself before she started.

"His name was Eric. Eric Harvey. He was the only man I've ever loved. He was perfect. He was a gentleman in every way."

She glanced at him then as if to point out his lack of gentlemanly skills. He rolled his eyes and motioned his hands for her to continue. _Of course_.

"Do you remember when Dr. Crane's fear toxin was released in Gotham a while back?"

He nodded his head slowly at her, a grin forming on his lips.

"We were out on a date that night. He was walking me back when it hit the air. Obviously we were both affected by it. It worked so fast and really fucked me up. I thought I had bugs on me and I thought some sort of _zombie corpse_ was coming after me to kill me. I acted the only way I knew. I picked something up off the street and I defended myself."

He watched as her eyes grew sadder. He could see her remembering everything. He could see the pain in her eyes. The pain of remembering something that you truly wanted to forget.

"I guess the Batman was busy, you know? I guess he was saving other people; people that actually _mattered_ to him."

She smiled a half smile, her eyes full of anger and torment. He smiled back at her; more interested now than ever.

"So, I took that pipe that I picked up off the street and I hit the corpse with it. I hit it in the head so many times and I hit it hard. I kept hitting it until it dropped to the ground; until I was _safe_." Tears were rolling down her cheeks and her voice had shifted to a sad monotone.

He continued to watch her speak, his head cocked slightly to the right; completely absorbed in her tale.

"A while later the drug wore off of course. I decided to look for Eric. I found him pretty quick. I didn't hit a fucking _zombie_ I had hit Eric. I bashed his fucking head in with my own _hands. _Eric's dead because _I_ killed him."

She paused to regain her composure, her voice breaking from sobs. She inhaled a sharp breath and closed her eyes for a moment. She laughed lightly, opening her eyes again, and turned her face to his. He was expressionless save for the permanent smile on his face. His dark eyes looked right back into hers, boring into her.

"I wanted to die then. I still want to die now. I just won't do it myself. I know Eric wouldn't like that. I didn't deserve to live _then_ and I still don't deserve to live _now_. I've kept the burden to myself; until now."

She closed her eyes and began quietly sobbing again, tears streaking down her face. She was in pain. The memories were too painful for her to bear.

He moved away from her, suddenly feeling a little uneasy. He cleared his throat. "Well, _no wonder_ you have no fear. Maybe I ___should_ have killed you back at the vault. Maybe you'll _snap_ and kill _me_ too, huh?" He stroked her tear streaked cheek. "Such a ___vicious_ little bitch behind such a _beautiful_ angel's face. Guess _I'm_ not the only one who wears good make-up after all, huh? You're _scary_, Angel. Even to a guy like_ me_, and I _don't_ scare _easily_."_  
_

She stopped sobbing then. If her hands weren't tied she would have smacked him in the face hard. She screamed at him, her words filled with acid anger. "Fuck you! You're nothing but a sick _freak_!"

He leaned in closer to her as she glared back up at him. Usually he wasn't fazed by this sort of thing, but something struck a nerve with him this time. "No, Angel. I'm _not_."

"Bullshit! Yes you _are_! You're nothing but a sick and twisted monster."

He leaned in closer still. Tears were still streaming down her beautiful face. He felt a strange feeling inside of him that he wasn't used to. Compassion? Pity? He didn't know. "I'm _not_ a monster, Angel."

"You just wanted me to tell you my biggest fucking secret so that you could laugh at me, right? So that you could get some sort of a kick out of my misery. You didn't even care. You're not capable of fucking caring!"

"Angel?" he whispered.

"What?"

"_Shut up_."

He pressed his lips against hers then. At first her lips didn't move, but soon hers began to move with his. He took her face in his hands and kissed harder still.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE - 2-2-2011**

Hey, guys! I know this story has been completed for a while, (technically since August of 2009) but I am always still re-reading and working on this even if it is complete. This chapter has actually bothered me for a while. I think I finally have it now at a point where I really like. I only made a few minor changes here, but I think the chapter just works a lot better now. Hope you still like it! To any new readers - Hope you're enjoying the story as well! : ) Thank you for reading!

Yours Truly,

foxotr


	4. Joke's on You

She couldn't believe what was happening. She had been so angry at him. And the next thing she knew his red painted lips were on hers. This kiss scared the shit out of her, but she couldn't will herself to stop. It felt too good. Her lips continued to move right along with his. Maybe, just _maybe_, he _was_ capable of caring.

It felt so good to have his lips on hers. He couldn't remember the last time he had kissed a woman like this. He felt like he could lose himself in her. He wanted… Wait. No! What the _hell_ was he doing? He abruptly pulled his lips from hers and shoved her to the side. He started laughing.

"What was…" she didn't have a chance to finish before he had her jaw in his firm grip again. His dark eyes bore down at her.

"Angel, Angel, _Angel_," his grip was getting tighter. "Did we, uh, _forget_ who's asking the questions here?"

He didn't wait for a reply. "Let me make something absolutely _crystal clear_ for you, Angel. That, uh, _kiss_," he licked his lips and smiled at her. "Don't, uh, don't get _used_ to it. I just…wanted to see what you'd _do._ See what you, uh, _tasted_ like on the inside."

She couldn't believe it. He was so full of _shit_. Did he really believe himself? She had seen the look in his eyes, heard the tone of his voice, but most of all she had _felt_ that kiss. That kiss was more than just _tasting_ her. He had let his guard down in that moment, she was sure of it. She knew there was more to this clown than met the eye. There was more to him than he wanted everyone to see or know.

"So tell me, Angel," his voice grew deeper and a smug smile spread across his face. "Was it _good_? Hm? Was it better than your, uh, _precious_ Eric?"

Her eyes grew large and angry. How dare he? How dare he bring Eric into any of this? What was he getting at anyways? Eric was gone and he had nothing to do with any of this. She wished her hands were free so bad.

He studied her face for a moment, laughter coming out in short squeaky spurts, like hiccups. "You don't _know_ do you, Angel? You can't remember what his lips felt like on yours anymore can you? You can't honestly _answer_ me, can you?"

So that was it. He wanted to play this kind of game with her. She didn't like his game today. Not one bit. She didn't want to think about _any_ of this. She didn't want what he was saying to be true. It _couldn't_ be true. She had loved Eric and this clown was nothing. There was no way she could remember only _his_ kiss. It was just that one long, hard kiss. No, it couldn't be true.

He placed his lips right above hers, touching her lips with his ever so slightly. He looked right into her eyes and spoke. "No. You _don't_ remember. You can't remember the _feel_ of his lips anymore. But you know what you _can_ remember? You can remember the feel of _my_ lips. Right?" He nodded and grinned at her. "You can still feel them can't you? You want to feel them _again_. Kinda _funny_ isn't it, Angel? You can't remember his kiss anymore because all your little brain can think about is _my _kiss. What a _pity_, huh Angel?"

_No_. She tried with all her might to remember Eric's kiss. She tried so hard to remember exactly the way he felt, but she couldn't. She could only remember how _he_ felt. She could only think about _his_ kiss. She was losing Eric all over again, but this time it wasn't her fault, this time it was _his_.

He ran his tongue along her lips and sighed. "Does it _depress_ you, my dear Angel? To know you're losing your precious Eric _completely_ now? To realize you don't _remember_ what his, uh, _kisses_ felt like anymore? To know that maybe you don't remember what his voice sounded like anymore? Or, uh, maybe you don't even remember his touch or any of that crap, huh? Does it depress you, Angel, to realize that _now_," he smiled. "When you think of all those things you think of _me_?"

Hot tears were welling up in her eyes. No. This is what he wanted. He wanted her to get upset. He was hitting her right where he knew it would hurt the most. No, she had to keep cool. She had to stay strong.

"Don't _flatter_ yourself," she managed to say through his tight grip on her jaw. "It wasn't _that_ good of a kiss."

Oh, the cat's claws were out now. He simply laughed at her and raised his eyebrows. "No?"

"No. I've had _better_."

He raised his eyebrows at her again and pulled her lips to his. He moved fast and hard, willing her lips to move with his. He sent his tongue into her mouth and tasted the entire inside. Her tongue was moving with his, tasting back.

What the hell? What kind of _sick_ game was this? God, she couldn't _help_ it. Her lips were like putty in his. She hated it. She moved her lips with his.

"How about _now_, Angel?" he murmured as his lips became free of hers.

"What?"

"He's _gone_ now isn't he? Every last _memory_ of Eric's kiss," he licked his lips. "His _taste_, it's all _gone_ now isn't it? Erased with memories of _me_."

"You are _so_ full of yourself, you know?"

He looked dead serious. "Am I, Angel? Think about it. Think _long_ and _hard_. Eric's _gone _sweetness. You did the real _job_, Angel. You did a good job, sweetness, but you didn't _finish it_. I simply stepped in and did some, uh, _clean up_. I got rid of all the nasty little lingering _traces_ for you. Y'see, I was only _helping_ you get rid of him _completely_."

"You _helped_ me? I don't remember asking you for any _help_. You're unbelievable, you know that right? Yes I _killed_ him. I know _I'm_ a monster. But you, you think you're some sort of _saint_ now helping me get _rid_ of him? I didn't _want_ to get rid of him. I didn't _mean_ to kill Eric, but you're _knowingly_ taking every last trace of him away from me. For what? _Why_? To _fuck_ with my head? Mission accomplished, ok? I can't do anything, you've got me trapped here like your little _toy_ playing fucking _mind games _with me. I wish I'd never fucking _met_ you."

He stood from the bed and picked her up by the jaw. He watched her knees buckle momentarily when her feet touched the ground. He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her into him hard. He held her there against him and rested his chin on her shoulder near the nape of her neck.

"Would you like to make that happen?"

She could barely even stand. Her legs were tied together at the ankles and her body felt like Jello from not being used much. She could feel his warm breath on her neck, his warm body pressed tightly against her back, and his strong arms holding her up and against him. She turned her face to look at him. He looked back at her, as serious as ever.

"Make _what_ happen? What are you _talking _about?"

He grinned at her. He held her up still with one arm and reached into his pocket to pull out a switchblade. He cut loose the ropes that bound her hands and arms together. Still holding her, he slid one hand slowly down the back of her body, giving her goose bumps, until he got to her ankles. He worked the knife until her legs were no longer bound either. She was free. He stood back up and turned her around to face him, still holding her against him.

"You wish you'd never _met_ me? I'm such a _monster_, right? You want to make me _pay_ for taking away the last, uh, _traces_ of Eric? You won't kill yourself and I'm obviously not going to do the job _for you_. You have a way out of this, Angel. You've done it before. It won't be _hard_. Think of it as, uh, _defending_ yourself. You get rid of the _monster_ and this whole, uh, _nightmare_ will be _over_, Angel."

Tears were welling up in her eyes again. He was _serious_. She couldn't believe it. She shook her head and choked back the lump in her throat. "_No_. I…I won't do it. I'm not a killer. I won't kill you. No."

He smiled at her and laughed grimly. He let go of her and slowly dropped to his knees in front of her, never breaking eye contact. He grabbed her shaking hands and turned them sweaty palm side up. He held his knife up to her and placed it in her palms. He dropped his own arms to the side, smiled and raised his eyebrows at her.

"Here's your way _out_, Angel. _Kill me_. You get your, uh, _wish_. You get out of this whole _thing_. You get your sweet _revenge _on me for, uh, _erasing_ the last bits of Eric. Come on, Angel. It will feel _good_ to kill me. This time you won't have to worry about that pesky _guilt_. You won't have to go on missing me like you missed _him_. Trust me. It feels so _good_ to kill on _purpose._ You'll _love_ it. You'll _love_ killing me. I am a, uh, _monster_ after all. I _deserve_ it."

She shook her head at him. She picked up the knife in her hand and looked at it closely. It definitely _was _sharp and she _could_ easily kill him with it. He was right. She was already a _monster_. She was already doomed to hell. What would one more kill matter? She could strike him down and all of this craziness would be _over_. She could claim self defense so she wouldn't go to jail over it. She knew nobody would be mourning his death. She was _sure_ of that.

She glanced down at him. He had his head tilted back. He was giving her easy aim at his jugular to tempt her further. One quick swipe and he'd be bleeding to death on the floor and she could be _gone_ from all of this. He'd be gone and she could _forget_ him. She could forget any of this ever even happened. She would be free to go back to living her miserable excuse of a life the same way she had before she'd met _him_.

She pressed the knife against his throat. He didn't move a muscle to stop her. He simply smiled and winked at her.

"So, what you're proposing is that I _kill_ you and all of this _over_? I'm home free? Is it that _simple_? I will have killed _two_ men and I just skip right on out of here like none of this shit ever even _happened_?"

He grinned wide. "Mmm now you got it."

She grinned back, laughed slightly and nodded at him. "Only _now_ instead of just being plagued and haunted daily by the memories of Eric's death and his kisses that I'll _never_ have again, I'll be forever haunted by the memory of _you_ and _your_ kisses? Right?"

He laughed briefly. "Think of it as my, uh, _parting_ _gift_ to you."

"And you? What's in it for _you_ when I kill you, hm?"

He simply shrugged at her, still grinning. All of this suddenly seemed strangely _familiar_ to her. She knew that look.

She leaned forward and put her face directly in front of his. She grabbed hold of his tie with one hand and pulled it tight, pulling him forward. He still didn't fight her. He was _enjoying_ this. She pressed the knife a little harder into his neck, slightly breaking the skin. She watched his face light up with laughter.

She whispered, "You _want_ me to do it. You _want_ me to kill you right now. Don't you?"

His only reply was more uncontrollable laughter. His dark eyes never left hers. She had her answer.

She shoved him back onto the floor hard. She straddled him and whispered into his ear, laughing slightly. "Joke's on you, _honey_. I'm not feeling all that, uh, _generous_ today."

She licked his earlobe, put his knife back in his hand and pulled her face up to look at him. He wasn't laughing anymore. He was glaring up at her. He looked shocked and angry.

She laughed. "Aw, what's wrong? Don't like being given a taste of your own medicine?"

"You dumb _bitch_," he growled.

She pressed a finger to his scowling lips. "Hey. Now we're even, honey."

"You had the chance to _kill _me and be _done_ with all of this and you didn't? You disappoint me, Angel. You _really_ do."

She nodded. "I _know_ what I did."

"_Do you_?"

"Yes. I _do_."

"_Why_?! You had every _reason_ to do it and you _didn't_. You can't play _innocent_ with me either, Angel. I _know_ what you really are. You're a _monster_. Just. Like. _Me_."

She smiled at him. "You know, I don't think you took into account that maybe _I'm _a pretty good judge of character too. I didn't kill you because you _wanted_ me to for whatever fucked up reason. Because," she traced a finger absently along his face. "You're hiding behind all this make-up and so I wouldn't have been killing the _real_ you. Right? It wouldn't have been as much _fun_, you know?"

He _loathed_ hearing his own words coming back at him like that. She truly _was_ a vicious little _bitch_. He reached his hand up and grabbed her by the face, throwing her with force onto the floor on her back. He straddled her and had his face in hers now.

"_Very funny_, Angel. Think you're being _smart_? Huh? Y'know normally I _love_ a woman who's a little _aggressive_. It makes me, uh, _hard_, y'know? But I'm…I'm not fully _buying_ it from you right now. You wanna know what I think? Huh?"

"Sure. Go ahead."

He grinned then let his face become serious again. "I think you just couldn't kill me because you didn't want me to _die_. No. You _wanted_ to keep me around. You _want_ me, don't you _kitten_?"

She paused for a few moments before answering. The smile was gone from her face. "You're driving me fucking _crazy_. What would you do if I admitted to that, huh? Would it scare you as much as it scares me? See, you're just _messing_ with me and you're not counting on yourself to be _right_ this time. You're probably used to everyone running scared from you. What if you _are _right this time, huh? What if I really didn't kill you because I want to keep you around; because I didn't want you to die? What if I didn't kill you because I couldn't fucking _live_ with myself if I did?"

He didn't have a witty or sarcastic comeback this time. He was at a loss for words. She was right. He hadn't counted on being right. He didn't like being right this time. He wasn't entirely convinced either. Maybe she was just as good at playing mind games as he was. Maybe she was just fucking with his head the same way he had with hers. He stared down at her and watched as she reached up to touch his cheek, gently stroking his scars with her thumb.

"You _hate_ that don't you? You _hate _that you're _right_ this time. I hate it too, you know. I _hate_ that I _couldn't_ kill you. I know I _should_ have. I know I had every reason to. That just _kills _me. I _hate_ that I'm _willingly_ lying here under you. I _hate _that I actually made the fucking _choice_ to stay here with you. I hate that I don't really even know _why_ I made the choice to keep you alive and stay here. I hate _that_ most of all."

"I should have just killed you back at the vault. I still _might_ kill you any time now."

She laughed as he pressed the knife to her throat again. "I _know_, believe me I do, but I still won't _care_ if I die. That won't change."

He let a growl rise up in his throat before he screamed down at her, shaking with rage. "I fucking _hate _you!!"

"Do you?"

Now she had turned everything back around on him. She was kissing him hard, tasting him. He hated her _so_ much for making him feel this way, for not killing him. He wanted to fucking kill her for making him want her so bad. She was no angel. She was the fucking _devil_ in disguise, sent straight from hell to _ruin_ him.


	5. Show and Tell

Angeline continued pressing her lips harder and faster on his. He had started kissing her back with almost an angry feel to it, but soon his kisses became more and more urgent. She absently sent a hand roaming across his scarred face, caressing him. He quickly shot his hand up to catch her wrist in his strong grip. He pulled his lips away from hers and they started to catch their breath. She looked up at him, his dark eyes were closed tight and he still had her wrist in a strong grasp. She thought he looked almost pained.

He opened his eyes and stared into her prying eyes. He squeezed her wrist harder in his grip. "Y'know, sweetness, I still, uh, I still _hate_ you."

She nodded at him. "I know. It's _funny_, I think I still might hate you too, but I don't think I _care_."

"_Why_?!" he growled, looking almost sickeningly angry at her. She figured, no she _knew,_ if he had given anyone else that look they'd be _dead_ right now. But she _wasn't_ dead. She was still _alive_. _Why_?

"You know, I'm…" she hesitated, searching for words that she didn't even know. "I'm not really _sure_, but there's _something_ about you. Something about you that _still_ has me here. Something that made me keep you _alive_, made me decide to _stay_ here with you instead of run _far away_. There was something about you that I just _couldn't_ bring myself to _destroy_. Something about you that made you keep me here too. We're _both_ alive. _Why_? It doesn't make much sense to me."

He suddenly bent her wrist back, causing her to yelp in pain. He placed his lips on top of hers while he spoke. "Angel, I _told_ you why you're _alive_, sweetness. I'm not that _generous_ of a guy to give you what you want _most_. No, that just wouldn't be _me_. As far as, uh, what you _think_ you see in me? Have you ever, uh, maybe thought about getting _glasses_? Huh? I don't think you're seeing me _quite so clearly. _Y'see there _absolutely_ is _something_ about me, Angel, something that, uh, could _kill_ you at any moment if you _piss_ me off or maybe rub me the wrong way or perhaps I'll, uh, just get _bored_ of you. Y'know, just because I'm not feeling quite so _generous_ now doesn't mean that I'll always feel that way. It's who I_ am_. I kill because I _want_ to. Because I _enjoy_ it. I don't make _exceptions_, sweetness."

She choked back her pain. "I know. Believe me."

He breathed her scent in. _Damnit_. Still no fear. He let her wrist go by shoving her away from him. He paused to glare at her before he stood and walked over to the bed. He turned his back to her. He didn't trust himself to look at her anymore then.

"And, uh, you still won't _care_ if I _do_ snap and kill you, right? You still have your little, uh, fucked up _death wish_, right? Still want me to be your, what did you call it? Oh right, _right_. Your _angel of death_, right?"

She was standing behind him now. "Maybe, but if I remember correctly I'm _not_ the only one with an apparent fucked up _death wish_, you know?"

He laughed darkly then turned his head to look behind him, locking his dark eyes with hers. "_Not about me_, sweetness. _None_ of this is _about me_. As for _you_? Well," he licked his lips and chuckled briefly, still glaring into her eyes. "You'll, uh; you'll be waiting a _hell_ of a long time if you're here waiting for _me_ to give you _happiness_. So, uh, _do_ tell me, _why_ are you _still here_?"

"I don't know," she was pressed up against his back now. "I think maybe because I just don't _want_ to be _alone_ anymore. I mean, what do I have to go _back_ to, huh? I have _nothing_. At least with _you_ I feel…_alive_. As _fucked up_ as it sounds, even to _me_, with _you_ I at least feel some sort of _emotion_, which is better than going back to feeling _nothing_. I don't want to feel nothing anymore. I _can't_. I _don't_ want to go back to living a _lie_. I'd rather _die_."

He turned around and roughly lifted her head to look up at him. His tone was dangerous. "That's _nice_, Angel. But, uh, let me _tell_ you something, _princess_. I'm _not_ your fairy tale _prince_. I work _alone_. The _last_ thing I need is some little _bitch_ following me around like a _lost_ little puppy _dog_. I'd throw you to the _pound_, sweetness. I'm, uh, I'm just not _good_ at keeping _pets_. They usually wind up _dead_, y'know? You want _companionship_? You want someone to make you feel _alive_? _Don't _look to _me_ for any of that, ok? _No, no, no_. Go, uh, call a _hotline_ or something. Maybe watch a little more _Oprah_ or who's that other _asshole_ that thinks he knows _everything_? Dr. Phil? Yeah, that's the one."

She studied him hard while he spoke to her. She reached up on her toes to move a strand of his hair out of his eyes. "I'm _not_ looking for a _prince_. I don't _believe_ in fairy tales anymore. I just don't _want_ to be _alone_ anymore. And…I don't think you _really_ like being _alone_ all the time."

He growled and pulled a chunk of her hair hard, pulling her into him. "You don't know _shit_ about _me_, sweetness. What do you _really_ want from me?"

She whispered. "I showed you the real _me_ like you wanted. I played your little _game_. I want you to show me who you _really_ are. I want to meet the _real_ you; just once. I _know_ you're in there somewhere hiding behind all of these lies and make-up."

He shoved her away from him and began convulsively laughing. He pointed his index fingers, still shaking with laughter, at his face, his scars, his hair, and his unusual taste in clothing. He stopped laughing, wiping his face clean of laughter, when he spoke. His tone was deep and serious. "_This_. _Is_. _**Me**_!"

She shook her head. "No. Maybe you've _convinced_ yourself that this _is_ you, but it _isn't_. This is who you are _now_. This is who you've _chosen_ to be, but this isn't _completely _you. No, threaten to kill me all you want and deny yourself all you want, but I know the _truth_. There's _more_ to _you_. There's someone hiding beneath who you've _become_. You weren't always like this. Maybe you just don't _remember_ anymore and I _get_ that. But I know there's more to you than you like to let everyone _see_."

He rolled his eyes and laughed, annoyed. "You are _such_ a _woman_. You think it's that _easy_? You think you have me _all figured out_, now? You think you can just, uh, _waltz _into my life and wash off my make-up and _POOF_ suddenly out pops my hidden inner _hunk_ of a _dream date_ that I've been, uh, _suppressing_ all these years? That's _utterly pathetic _and_ stupid_. You think I'm wearing this make-up, that I am who I _am_ because I have some _hidden need_ to hide my, uh, troubled, lost, sad, and sensitive man side? No. _NO._ _Wake up_, Angel. This _isn't_ the movies or your, uh, little Harlequin romance books. _This_," he pointed at himself and moved his face directly in front of hers again, staring into her eyes. "_This is real_. _I'm_ real. I'm not _hiding_, Angel. I don't _have_ to. People hide from _me_. What you _see_ is what you _get_. I'm _so_ very _sorry_ to spoil your _pathetic_ little _womanly desire_ to, uh, _fix me up_, but there's _nothing to fix_. They _broke_ the mold when they made _me_."

She sighed and reached up on her toes again to gently run her fingers along his scars, smudging a little bit of his make-up off onto her finger. She was determined to reach him, even if it was the last thing she did. "How did you get them?"

He laughed hatefully, rolling his eyes, and smacked her hand away from him. "I already _told_ you that story, Angel. Weren't you _listening_?"

She shook her head. "Oh I heard you _loud _and _clear_, but that story was a _lie_. I want the _real_ story. How did you _really_ get those scars?"

He looked at her for a long moment. She thought he was debating whether to tell her the truth or not. Was she getting in? _No_. He was shaking with giggles.

"Well," he finally spoke. "_Believe_ it or _not_, you only get _one_ story from me, sweetness."

She shook her head in disbelief at him and locked eyes with his cocky gaze. "You don't _remember_ what _really_ happened anymore do you? You've probably been spewing your bullshit stories for _so long_ that you don't know fucking _truth_ from your own little _warped lies_. That's _sad_. It _really_ is."

He had been playing nice, or as nice as he would allow himself to be, up until this point. No more Mr. Nice. She had pushed him over the edge. He smacked her across the face hard and as she was recoiling from the blow he locked one arm around her neck in a secure choke hold. Her hands came up instinctively around his arm, clawing at him for release. He laughed at her as he dragged her towards the other door in his dimly lit room. He kicked the door open and pulled her inside with him. He reached above him for a cord hanging overhead. He pulled on the cord and the light bulb directly above his head lit the bathroom. He pulled her in front of his only mirror in front of his rusting porcelain sink. He lifted her head so the she could look into the mirror with him still holding her tight to him with one arm.

She saw herself for the first time since she had left her apartment the morning he had found her in the vault. She stared at herself through his hideously cracked mirror. If she wasn't sure that she was standing there in front of a mirror she wouldn't have ever believed she was looking at a reflection of herself. Her lips were smeared with the same red paint that adorned his. She supposed this happened when they had kissed. She saw the bright red cut extending from the left corner of her mouth. Her cheek, where he had just smacked her, glowed red. Her hair was a disheveled mess and bruises ranging from yellow to purple were splotched all around her jaw and cheeks.

He smiled from behind her in the cracked reflection, laughing. He could see her taking her own reflection in, he felt her stop clawing him and relaxing her hands into a grip on his arm instead. He reached down onto his sink with his free arm and picked up a shard of glass that had long since dropped from his mirror. He held the glass on her cheek, cutting slightly into her skin. He watched her wince slightly as blood started to drip slowly down her cheek. He bent his head and placed his lips by her ear, still looking at her through the mirror. "You're so _interested_ in how I _acquired_ these, uh, _beauties_ right? You don't _believe_ my _story_, but, uh, I'm thinking _maybe_ you'll _believe me_ if I _show_ you? Hm? What do _you_ think? Think you'll _believe_ me after a little _show and tell_, Angel?"

She watched a spark of light enter his dark eyes as he had the glass pressed into her cheek. He was _happy_. He really _did_ love doing this shit. Maybe she had been _wrong_ all along. Maybe he was _right_. Maybe he truly was a _monster_ with nothing more to him than hate, killing, tormenting, mind games, and _laughing_. Maybe he truly was a psychotic _clown_ who got his happiness from breaking other people. Or maybe she had just pressed his buttons too hard this time and he truly was going to slice her face up just like his.

He purred into her ear. "Oh, what's wrong, Angel? Scared? You wanted an _answer_, sweetness. I'm just, uh, giving you a _thorough demonstration_ to clear this whole thing up."

"Let. Me. _Go_."

He chuckled in her ear delightedly. "Oh, ho ho ho, Angel. I thought you wanted to know the _truth_. Why the sudden _change of heart_, sweetness?"

"You're not going to tell me the _truth_. You just want to get your _kicks_ slicing my face up."

He smiled. "Ah. Y'see, _now_ you _get it_."

He grinned wide at her and dropped the shard of glass back on his sink. He smoothed her hair with his hand as he stared at her through the cracked reflection. He nuzzled his cheek up against hers, murmuring into her ear. "Ask me how I got them _again_ and I _will_ show you."

He let his choke hold on her go. He leaned his lanky body against the grimy white wall behind him and crossed his arms. He watched her continue to look at him through the mirror in front of her.

She felt him let go of her and watched as he leaned against the wall behind her. His eyes were still watching her through the mirror. She had been _so_ sure that he was going to cut her face up. He spared her _again_. _Why_? _To teach her a lesson_? Maybe she _hadn't_ been wrong after all. Maybe she was just going about this the _wrong_ way. Maybe she just needed a new approach.

She sighed to herself. This was _so_ fucked up. The only person to make her feel _alive_ in a year just had to be this _psychotic clown_. Even when he was pressing glass and knives into her skin she felt more alive than she had since she'd killed Eric. At least this clown made her feel _something_, _anything_. At least that's what she kept trying to tell herself.

"Ok I get it," she nodded. "You don't want to talk about the scars. That's fine. How about a new question?"

He pursed his lips together and knotted his eyebrows together, eying her questioningly.

"I told you _my_ name so maybe you'd like to tell me _yours_?"

He simply laughed and smiled at her. "You can call me Joker."

_Joker_? Great. Another _god damned lie_. "_Joker_? Why Joker?"

He looked at her through the mirror and rolled his eyes giving a heavy sigh. His tone was annoyed. "Do you _really_ have to _ask_?"

She laughed and sighed to herself. "No, I guess not."

She could see she obviously wasn't going to be able to get to him with _words_. Words didn't seem to _get_ to him like they did to her. When she had seen the light in his eyes as he held the glass to her face she thought she was seeing the _real_ him, but now she still wasn't entirely convinced. She wasn't going to give up on him yet.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror more. Her eyes zeroed in on the red paint smeared on her lips and then darted to his mouth where some of the paint was smudged off entirely revealing the plump, flesh pink of his lips.

He watched her stare into the mirror until she turned around to face him. She reached on her toes to grab the chain hanging above them from the light bulb on the ceiling. She smiled sweetly up at him.

"Well Mr. _Joker_, are we done in here?"

He reached one arm up to grab her hand on the cord and another arm around her waist to pull her tightly to him. He didn't _trust_ her. "Well, _Angel_, that depends. Do you have anymore _stupid_ questions for me?"

She shook her head innocently at him.

"Then _yes_, we're _done_."

He pulled their hands down on the cord and the light went out. He shifted her to his side and pulled her out of the bathroom with him, kicking the door shut behind them. He walked her over to the bed and laid her down on one side. "Time for a _rest_."

She watched him walk over to the other side of the bed and lay down. He wrapped his arms behind his head and his feet hung off the end of the bed. She sighed and closed her eyes.

He heard her sigh and closed his eyes. If she was going to be good for a while and rest then he could probably use a little rest himself.

She opened her eyes back up after several minutes. She looked over at him. He looked almost peaceful. His chest was slowly rising and falling with his breaths and his eyes were closed. _Perfect_. She moved quietly onto her side, pulled herself up on her elbow and moved her face in front of his, hesitating.

"Joker?" she whispered.

His eyes quickly shot open. Before he could reply she quickly placed her lips on his. She pressed hard and moved fast. It wasn't long before she felt his lips start to respond and move accordingly with hers. _There he was_. _The shield was down again_. His hand found the small of her back and pulled her body tightly against his. They weren't so _different_ after all. She pressed her lips harder into the man behind the make-up. She didn't want to be _alone_, and right now, _neither did he_.

**- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
**

**  
A short note from the author**: Hey everybody! Thank you for taking interest in and reading my story. I'm in_ love _with it and I'm having probably the _best_ time _ever_ writing it. It has become the highlight of my days working on this. Obviously everyone should already know I own nothing except for the original character of Angeline. She's my brain child, but everything else isn't mine. I've rated this story an M for violence, language, and strong sexual content.  
I haven't got many reviews so I'm just curious as to what everyone thinks who has either already read it or is just now reading it. I'd _love_ to hear from all of you. Drop me a note or a review _any time_. I also wanted to let those who _do_ follow my story closely know that this next chapter may take a little longer than it usually takes me to write my chapters. I've been pretty good with getting one a week out. This one may take a little bit longer so sit tight and I hope the end product is worth your wait.  
Thank you! : )


	6. Moment of Truth

- - - - **_WARNING_**: This chapter features strong sexual content and language (this is why I've rated it an M) - - - - - - - -

He heard her whisper his name and when he opened his eyes her face was so close to his. It took him off guard. Before he could even begin to think of a reply, her lips were on his. _Damnit_. He couldn't lie there unresponsive. His lips started kissing hers back. _God, she tasted so fucking good_. He sent his arm out and found the small of her back with his hand. He pulled her body tightly up against his own. She was so _warm_. So _breakable_. So…_willing_.

She sent her arm out roaming freely along the side of his body. She was _testing_ to see if he'd _stop_ her like he had before. _No_. This time he didn't stop her. In fact, as she was running her hand along him he sent his hand roughly down her thigh, hitching her leg up around him. She pushed herself closer still, wanting to be as close to him as she possibly could. Their kisses were becoming more and more urgent and heated.

He used his arm to roll her over onto her back. He broke his lips from hers, smiling down at her when her pleading eyes looked up at him. He climbed on top of her, straddling her on his knees. He unbuttoned his vest rapidly and tossed it down to the floor. He pulled the straps of his suspenders down so that they hung loosely at his sides. He loosened up his tie and then moved her hair away from her neck. He bent down and brought his lips urgently to her.

She watched him from above her. There was a look in his eyes she hadn't seen from him before as he looked down at her. She was almost in pain yearning for him to just hurry up and start kissing her again. She was done with denying him, now she _needed_ him.

His lips touched gently to her neck and she squirmed at the sensation. He let his lips roam over her neck, up to her jaw, and back down again. He cupped her face in his hand and started biting at the skin on the nape of her neck. He heard her let out a guttural moan. This sent him biting, sucking, and kissing harder and faster. He could feel her breathing picking up under him. Then he felt her hands tugging on the buttons of his shirt. The little _minx_ had the buttons undone in record time. Impressed, he bit harder still.

She finally had his shirt unbuttoned. She gasped as her eyes took in the sight of his lanky, toned bare torso. "Oh my god…"

She couldn't help it. Even in the dim light, she could see his skin was littered with more pale pink scars. They were spread all over him. She felt tears start welling up in her eyes as her hands tentatively and gently skimmed over several of the soft scars. _So much pain and violence for just one man. Why?_

He halted his lips and sat up on top of her. He quickly surveyed her eyes then looked down at himself. Oh, _right_. The fucking _scars_. He quickly yanked off his tie and his shirt and threw them to the floor. He bent his lips to her ear and whispered, "What's the _matter_? Do I, uh, _disgust_ you?"

She yanked his face in front of hers and kissed him hard on the lips. She opened her eyes and locked her gaze with his dark eyes. "No, not really. Do I disgust _you_?"

He looked down at her, scrutinizing her. "_You_? No, no, _no_. Not right _now_. Your, uh, _clothes_ though; I think maybe _they_ disgust me a _little_."

She looked at him, confused. "My _clothes_? I happen to _like_ my little black dress, _thank you_."

He laughed a little, licking his lips, and then reached into his pants pocket. "Oh I like it _too_. It, uh, shows off your _tits_ real nice and all, but I'm, uh, I'm _sick_ of _looking_ at it."

The next thing she knew he had his damn knife out again. He planted one hand on one of her breasts, pulling the fabric of her dress up. He worked his knife down the length of her dress, ripping the fabric apart. He scooted back and lifted her up to him. He tugged at the back of her dress, slid what was left off her arms, and tossed the ruined garment to the floor. He licked and bit at her neck then surveyed her, smiling smugly.

"Muuuuuuuch _better_," he purred, licking his lips.

"You _know_," she smiled, _almost_ laughing at him. "There was a _zipper_ on the _back_."

He shoved her down on her back and started kissing her neck, then her shoulders, and stopped at the middle of her chest. He looked up at her, laughing slightly. "I _know_. Wouldn't have been as much _fun_ if I had just used the damn _zipper_, now _would it_?"

She felt his lips biting and kissing over her chest. She watched him pause and frown at her black strapless bra. She was about to tell him that it was front clasp and she would rather he not cut it up when she felt his hands unclasp it. He tugged the bra out from under her and she heard it drop to the floor with the rest of their discarded clothes. She felt so vulnerable lying under his warm body like this now. She felt his kisses and bites frantically covering her breasts now. She rubbed her hands up and down his back and sides; squirming under him. Her hands roamed to his ass and then swept around to his front, tugging at the button of his interesting purple pinstriped pants.

She fumbled with the button of his pants. Pants like that just _couldn't_ have an easy, _normal_ button could they? _Of course not_. _Everything_ about him had to be _unique_ and _complex_, even his fucking _clothes_. She started to get frustrated and embarrassed. She let out a small growl. She felt his body start to shudder with laughter on top of her as he continued biting and kissing at her. _That did it_. Now she'd show him she meant business.

He felt her move urgently under him. She pushed him up onto his knees as she rose up onto her own. He was shocked as she took full control over everything. He wasn't used to that. She pressed herself against him and had her hands running excitedly along his sides. Her mouth was at his neck biting and kissing urgently. _Damn_. He tilted his head back in pleasure and ran his hands along her thighs.

_Now she had him_. He was too far gone into the pleasure that he wouldn't even see her next move coming. She quickly ran her hands to the front of his pants again and _finally_ undid the button and slid down his zipper. She reluctantly let her lips leave his neck and pulled her face away from his. His eyes were closed and his head was still tilted back, waiting for her lips to return to him. She grabbed onto his pants at his hips and pulled with all her strength from desire. She watched in awe as he, caught _completely_ off guard, flipped backwards off the bed onto the floor with a thud, his pants around his ankles. She smiled, satisfied with herself and the fact that his pants were finally off.

She heard shuffling on the floor and then saw his face, his make-up so smudged it was basically gone, appear at the foot of the bed. He smiled a half smile at her, laughing slightly. "Well, well, _well_, Angel. A little _excited_ are we? _I like that_. I _really_ love a woman who knows what she _wants_ and just, uh, just fucking _takes_ it. It's uh, _quite_ the turn on, y'know."

As she was staring at him, wondering what he was going to do next, he suddenly pounced from the floor back up to the bed, knocking her over. He was on top of her as he hungrily placed his lips on her cheek and moved quickly, fueled with almost painful desire, to her jaw, neck, shoulders, chest, and stomach. He stopped when his lips met with the frilly lace of her panties. He bit down on the fabric in the middle and grabbed both sides with his hands pulling the last bit of clothing off of her. He turned to his side and let the lacy garment drop from his mouth to the floor.

He looked down at her and smiled, licking his lips and running a hand through his hair. "Y'see, I'm a man who, uh, knows what I _want_ and, _like you_, I just _take_ it."

He bent down and placed his tongue on her leg. He ran his tongue slowly up the length of her leg, reaching the inside of her hips. He wanted to _taste _her. No, he _needed_ to taste her; _all_ of her. So, being a man who just _takes_ what he wants, he took _her_. His tongue darted all around her, tasting her inside and out. He grew more and more excited as he heard her moan and felt her arching her back in pleasure.

She was grabbing the sheets and twisting them in her fists. She could hardly breathe with his tongue on her like that. She couldn't _help_ the moans that were escaping her lips. _God_ she _needed_ him _now_, _all_ of him.

He rolled over on his side, quickly catching his breath, as he slid up the bed next to her. He felt her hands desperately grabbing at him. He couldn't control the moan that escaped his lips as her hands found and ran along the length of him rhythmically. His hands ran along her, searching, until his fingers found what they were looking for. He pressed into her, feeling her, as her hips rose to meet him. He felt his own hips moving to meet her movements on him. Their pace was picking up. He couldn't take much more of this. _He had to have her_. He had to have her _now_.

She felt his fingers move away, leaving her gasping for air. He pushed her hand off of him and moved on top of her. She instinctively moved her legs, allowing him room. He stared down at her, their eyes meeting, as he quickly pushed all of himself into her. It knocked the air out of her like she had been punched in the gut. Just like that, they were _one_, they were the _same_. _They were complete_.

He moved his hips as she moved hers in rhythm with him. He felt her hands running frantically along him, her nails scraping along his skin. He ran a hand along her side while he held himself up with the other. He was wild with pleasure and emotion. He never wanted this to stop. _Wait. No!_ He struggled hard to keep the emotion out. This was _nothing_ but him _fucking_ her. It had been _forever_ since he'd been with a woman and this was just nothing but _pointless_ sex to quench his manly sex drive. Pointless fucking sex. That's _all_ it was. _Pointless_. _No emotion_. _No caring_. _Pointless_. _Fucking_. _Sex_.

He looked down at her then. _Bad move_. She was looking back up at him, her eyes full of emotion. He saw in her eyes that this _wasn't_ pointless sex to her, this _meant_ something to her. _Fuck_.

He pushed into her as hard as he could and started shaking with laughter. He looked down at her and smiled a _devilish_ grin. "Does it _hurt_ when I'm _inside_ you, Angel?"

She raised her hips to meet him. "No."

He moved his hips harder and faster, causing her to moan. "No? It doesn't _hurt_ knowing that it's _me_ you feel and _not_, uh, not Eric? That I'm currently erasing _every_ last _trace_ of him and making you _mine_? I _know_ you had to have _fucked_ him, Angel. Now you're fucking _me_ and I'm taking _his place_. Are you _sure_ that doesn't hurt?"

She looked up at him, not moving with him now. That look in his eyes she had seen earlier was gone now. His eyes looked the same as they always did when he was hiding behind that fucking shield of his. Is that what this was about? He realized his shield was down and he had to quick put it back up by pretending this was a pointless _fuck_? By using _Eric_? _No_. He wasn't doing this, _not now_.

She shoved him off her, breaking them apart. She slapped him hard across the face and got off the bed. She walked over towards the wall, facing him and staring at him angrily. "I don't fucking _believe_ you! _Enough_ with all this bull shit already! Stop bringing Eric into all of this. This _isn't_ about _him_. This is about _you and me_! When are you going to _get_ that?"

He touched his cheek where she had slapped him, grinning. He moved his jaw and cracked it. He started laughing as he turned to glare at her. "Well, I'll take that as a _yes_. I guess it _did_ hurt to have me _inside_ you after all, huh?" He got up and walked over to her, shoving her hard against the wall. "Guess you just, uh, couldn't _stand_ having _me_ make you _whole_, huh? You just couldn't _stand_ that it was _me_ and not him making you _moan_. I'll _bet_ that you were _seconds_ away from screaming _his_ name and _not mine_, right? I'll _bet_ you were picturing _him_ fucking you the _whole_ time and not _me_."

She laughed, shaking her head. "_Wrong_. You are _so_ wrong. For being someone who's _supposed_ to be so perceptive you are just _so_ fucking _blind_ to what's happening right in front of your _face_. Open your eyes! I wasn't even _thinking_ about him at all until _you_ brought him into this. I was thinking about _you_. I was with _you_. You can't _stand_ that can you? You can't stand that I _wanted_ you like that. You can't even begin to _fathom_ that I loved _every_ fucking second of all of that. You can't stand knowing that I want _you_, that I…that I _need_ you. I've let go of Eric, Joker. I…I care about you now and I just want to fucking _be with you_. Is that so _hard_ to _see_?"

He glared at her. "You're a lying _bitch_! Just shut up!"

She dodged her head to the side as his fist collided with the wall where her head was a second ago. She reached her arms around him and pulled him up against her. She kissed him hard on the lips then broke away to whisper to him. "_I'm not lying_. You don't _want_ to believe me because you don't like the _truth_, you're _scared_ of it. I _get_ that, but it's _ok_. I _promise_ you. _Let it go_. Let _all_ of it _go_. _Please_. I need _you_ and you need _me_ somewhere in the back of your head. _Here I am_, Joker. _Take me_. This is our little _secret_. Nobody else will know. This is just _you and me_."

He let out a frustrated growl as she brought her lips back to his. _Bitch. That fucking bitch_. Why did she have to taste _so_ _good_? Why did she have to feel so...so fucking _perfect_?

She felt his hand go down to her thigh bringing up her leg around his hip. She instinctively locked her other leg tightly around him. Her hands knotted into his hair, pulling him hard into her urgent, passionate kisses as she felt him push into her again, pushing her into the wall. She moved with him as he moved faster, kissing her with more passion than she'd ever felt before.

She had reached her breaking point. She pulled away from him his lips and laid her head into his shoulder. She screamed his name and her body shook with more ecstasy than she'd ever thought possible. She felt his pace quicken as he groaned, "_Angel_. _My_ Angel."

They slid, exhausted, to the floor, gasping for air. He slid over and leaned against the wall. She crumpled her body against his and felt his arms tightly wrap around her, holding her to him. She felt tears escape from her eyes.

She spoke the truth then, even if the truth was scary, breaking their silence. "_I'm yours_, you know?"

He inhaled a deep, sharp breath, swallowed hard, clenched his jaw tight and nodded. Pulling her tighter in his arms he whispered, "I know. _I know_."

She closed her eyes, letting the tears escape, and melted into him. There were no _lies_ in this moment. This was _true_.

- - - - **A note from the author**: Sorry it took so long to get this out. I had to wait a while for my usual first run reviewers to read it and get back to me, and I had to be sure I was comfortable with it myself. I decided I was comfortable (I don't normally do sexual content, but this story just had so much sexual tension up to this point that it was sort of all leading up to this moment and I felt it was necessary and it was more than just a pointless sex scene, it served as a big plot turning point for both characters...I wanted to give it meaning and I think I put a lot of meaning and depth into this whole chapter for them as I felt they deserved that) and my reviews came back good so here it is! I hope it was worth the wait and I hope you enjoyed it. I have already started chapter 7 and I would _love_ to see some more reviews, my birthday is coming up on October 8th and more reviews would be the best present ever. HINT HINT. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. Hopefully chapter 7 will be done and finished up soon for you. Enjoy reading! Thank you! - - - - - - - -


	7. Game Over

Angeline opened her eyes to dim sunlight shining in through the window. She had spent all night with him. They couldn't separate themselves. She'd never needed anybody as much as she needed him. It was the most blissful night she had ever experienced. She had fallen asleep, exhausted, in his arms.

She knew she was alone the very instant she opened her eyes. She didn't feel his arms around her anymore and she didn't feel his warmth next to her. She sighed, drawing the sheets up around herself, covering her body, and looked groggily around the room. _Gone_. He was gone. Of _course_. She glanced down at the side of the bed where he should have been and found a package. She carefully opened the box. Lying at the top was a note, scrawled in sloppy sporadic handwriting.

"_Good Morning,_

_ Sorry to fuck and run, Angel, but I had some things to do, people to see. You know the drill, right?_

_ I found this for you. I liked the color and thought it would suit you. If you don't like it, well, you'll just have to go naked then won't you? Remember your dress met with an unfortunate accident last night._

_ Oh and- sorry about the bruises. And you might want to take a shower or something. You've got traces of me all over you, sweetness. _

_ Don't wait up for me._

_ -jOkEr_"

She folded the note back up and set it aside. She carefully lifted the orange tissue paper. Lying inside the box was a beautiful satin dress. _Purple_ of course. On top of the dress was a single wilting red rose. She picked up the rose carefully, afraid of ruining it, and twirled it in her fingers. Its petals were drooping and it was fragile, but it was still a pretty rose all the same. She lifted it to her nose and inhaled its scent. She sighed happily, setting the rose back down. She stood up and was met with a horrible aching stiffness in her back and muscles. That must be what he meant by the bruises. She pulled the dress out of the box and pulled it over herself. It fit like a glove. The soft fabric hung down past her knees, and, of course, was low cut in the front with thin straps on her shoulders. She smiled at the dress and his attempt to be _nice _and _sweet_ to her. The gesture wasn't romantic in the traditional sense, but it was really something from him and she was very touched.

She pulled the dress off of herself, cussing under her breath from the stiffness of her body, and laid it back down on the bed. She felt like she desperately needed a hot shower, but wondered if his shower even worked. She walked to the door she remembered him dragging her through yesterday. She half expected it to be locked, but when she turned the knob she was able to open the door. She walked inside the bathroom and reached up on her toes to turn the light on. She happened to turn her head towards the cracked mirror and caught sight of herself. She gasped. Her face was still bruised, had several swollen red cuts on it, and had his make-up smeared all over. She looked like she should be dead.

She glanced down at her body in the light. She found more make-up smudged on her and bruises all over. She felt hot tears stinging her eyes. She was a mess, a horrible fucking _mess_. She disgusted her own self to look at. She couldn't bear look at herself another second and quickly turned her face away from the mirror, swallowing a lump in her throat.

She knew _exactly_ why she looked the way she did. This was the _price_ she was paying to be with _him_. This was part of the price she would have to continue to pay if she stayed with him. She knew she would probably _always_ look like this if she stayed. She knew he would always be dangerous to her and he'd _never_ be able to stop hurting her like this. He couldn't _control_ that part of himself. She knew he was always going to be _exactly_ who he was now. Nothing would _ever_ change him.

She always thought that women who were abused and looked a lot like she did deserved what they got for the most part. It was their fault for _staying_ in a relationship like that. They could just _leave_ and it would all stop. They didn't _need_ to stay in a relationship like that. She always thought about how she would _never_ in a million years be one of _those_ people. She would _never_ stand by and let herself be senselessly degraded and beat like that. Yet here she stood. She felt this was completely different. She wasn't one of those sorry little cowardly bitches. This was something she never expected to happen. She knew her choices and she knew she could run and leave this all behind if she wanted, but it was this or the life she had been "living" for the last year.

She started shaking, suddenly feeling so cold standing there. She wrapped her arms around herself and walked over to the tub and turned the faucet. To her surprise it actually worked. She turned it to hot and climbed inside, wrapping her arms tightly around herself. She let the hot water run all over her and closed her eyes, letting her mind wander.

Her thoughts drifted to Eric. She saw him clearly; his sweet smile, his eyes. She remembered, just for a moment, what it was like to be with him. Eric never once hurt her and she knew if he was still alive he never would have. He was too gentle and caring. He lived to make her happy and would have done anything for her. Then her thoughts threw the vivid, horrible image of Eric lying dead on the street. Like a movie, she saw herself holding the pipe in her hands and killing him herself. It wasn't like she hadn't replayed this image in her mind every single day since she had done it, but it caused her to start shaking more.

Her thoughts shifted again to herself. She saw the same image she had seen in the mirror every day for the last year. The way her face had changed, the way _she_ had changed. She faked _everything_. She was good at it, but she saw the differences that nobody else around her seemed to notice. How she never smiled the same smile anymore. How she always looked like she just wasn't there. She had lived the last year just going through the dull motions of her life. She got up, went to work, came home, and then went to bed. Every night she would cry herself to sleep and wish for death. Every morning she would wake up and cry a little because she was still _alive_, because she had to endure another pointless fucking day. She was _alive_, but she hadn't _lived_ for almost a year, till the day she met _him_. He hadn't even known her, but he had known her well enough to see through her disguise on the surface.

Then her thoughts drifted again and she saw _him_. She saw Joker standing in the vault smiling at her, ready to _kill_ her. She saw him holding the knife in her mouth, throwing her head into the floor, squeezing her jaw, choking her, and threatening to slice her face with the broken glass. Then she saw that look she had seen in his eyes yesterday when they were together. She saw that almost sad and innocent side to him that came out so rarely and quickly that if you blinked you would probably miss it. She felt his kisses, and his touch. She still _yearned_ to be with him, even though she knew most people in their right mind wouldn't. She wasn't _crazy_, but she wasn't _perfect_ either.

She realized that she was a monster and she never deserved Eric in the first place. Nobody who could kill their only love in cold blood the way she had deserved a man like Eric. She thought of Joker, a monster too in his own way, but not entirely. He was only a monster on the surface. Deep down he was alone, just like her. She saw that look in his eyes, the scars on his body and his face, and she knew she didn't see him as a monster. No, not a monster at all. She saw something so much more. She saw something almost _beautiful_. She knew beyond all reasonable doubt that she could _never_ run away from this, from _him_. He deserved a _chance_ at his own version of happiness. She could give him that much for as long as he wanted it. She could _endure_ the bruises and the pain. She could do that for him; for them. They could _help_ each other. They _needed_ each other. She would give him what little happiness she could and he would always be there to make her feel _alive_.

Her thoughts drifted yet again to the memory of her last short kiss with Eric. She lengthened the kiss in her mind, speaking to him like he was there with her. _I'm sorry, Eric. I'm so sorry for what I did to you. You didn't deserve it. I didn't deserve you. I'll always love you, but I have to let you go now. I can't go on living the way I have been. It's a lie to live like that and I know what I'm doing seems crazy, but it's not. I can make him happy, Eric. I can be exactly what he needs me to be. I can't leave. I care about him too much already; I'm in too deep to ever leave on my own. Please trust me on this. I have to say good-bye to you. I can't keep dwelling on you, on us. Forgive me. I'm so sorry. Good-bye. _

She felt him leave her mind, smiling at her when their kiss finished. After all of this time she had finally accepted what she had done and finally let Eric go. She felt an immense weight being lifted from her while at the same time a part of her died. She heard a gurgling, choking noise and she supposed she was crying. Her mind was so deep in thought she wasn't sure what was real and what was in her mind. Joker's face suddenly came back into her mind, as close and as vivid as ever. She looked at his face and she gladly accepted her fate. She accepted the constant danger she would always be in with him. She accepted her new life, her new purpose. She was reborn. She saw his face so close to hers, looking angry and…_concerned_? She felt his hands, grasped tightly on both sides of her face, shaking her, and she thought that she _might_ have heard him calling to her before everything around her suddenly went black.

* * *

He walked up to the door and placed his ear against it. He couldn't hear anything. _Perfect_. She was probably still _blissfully_ fast asleep. That made this a whole hell of a lot easier for him. He would go in and do what _needed_ to be done. He took out his key and shoved it into the lock, turning it. He opened up the door and pulled a knife out of his coat pocket as he glided into the room and locked the door behind him.

He turned to the bed where he expected to see Angeline. He cocked his head to the side. All he saw was the opened box he had left her earlier, the rose, and the dress laying on the bed. There was a sheet piled on the floor in front of the bed.

"Hide and seek huh? Oh _goody_," he laughed, clutching his knife tighter in his hand. "I love a good _game_. Come out; come out, wherever you are!"

He had woken up that morning with her in his arms. He had been an idiot and let his guard down for her. He had let his emotions take over while he made love to her, or rather fucked her all night. He had been caught off guard and the feeling he had when he woke to her in his arms was such a sickeningly _good_ feeling that both scared and disgusted him. Well, he just couldn't live like that. He wouldn't. He had let go of her, threw his clothes on and left as fast as he could. He needed to get the hell out and clear his head. He couldn't think in there with her. She clouded his mind.

He walked along the cold, dark streets of Gotham in the shadows. He was pissed. First, at himself for letting a woman make him feel that way, and then at her for knowingly doing that to him. Feelings like love and happiness weren't _him_. They just didn't fit. He didn't do _love_. Love was for _naïve_ little _shits_ who didn't know the _first fucking thing_ about the _real_ world. It was a made up bull shit emotion people used express something they didn't fully understand, to express an emotion that was so fake and so over-used. Love was as real as fucking Santa Claus. _Happiness_? Sure, he had his _own_ version of the emotion. Happiness, to him, was the last terrified scream of someone before he slit their fucking throat. Happiness was the final cowardly look of _fear_ he got from someone right before they took their final _worthless_ breath. Happiness, to him, was _chaos_.

The words she had spoken to him while he held her kept ringing through his head like a broken record that he desperately wanted to smash against a wall to make it stop. "_I'm __**yours**__, you know_." He knew it was true the moment it came out of her perfect lips. He didn't doubt her. With his guard down, with her naked in his arms, he had just _accepted_ it without thinking. She was _his_ and there was no changing that. There was no going back.

Now, standing alone on the dark street without her, without looking into her eyes, he knew he couldn't just _accept_ the truth. He couldn't _have_ her. He couldn't _feel_ for her. He couldn't _want_ her. He had to put an _end_ to it. This was all just supposed to be a fucking _game_. He had just intended to break her down and then kill her when she was at her lowest, when he could see some genuine _fear_ in her sad blue eyes. He had never intended for it to come to _this_, for her to _fall_ for him, for her to force these fucking feelings out of him. He didn't know how it had come to this. _No_. It had to _stop_. _Today_. The game was _over_. He would _kill_ her and all of this would be nothing but a fucking _memory_.

He made up his mind then when he was far from her. With his mind made he would just have to follow through with it. Killing people was _easy_ and killing her would be no different. He was just doing what _needed_ to be done, after all. He was just finishing what he had started. He thought, perhaps, that it would be best if she was expecting him to come back to her happy. That way he might at least get the satisfaction of seeing some sort shock and betrayal in her eyes when he killed her. If he was going to do this then why not make it _fun_?

He had walked along the streets until he came upon a little boutique with a window display. He glanced inside and a sexy satin number jumped out him. The lovely color caught his eye and he decided he would take it for her. He had ruined her dress after all. He smashed the glass and walked in, his feet crunching down on top of the broken glass. He made his best guess on size and took a dress with him. He started back to his home and came across a window box with roses in it. _Girls like flowers, right?_ Of course they do. He reached out and plucked a random rose from the box and picked up his pace. He made it home before the sun came up. He quickly penned a small note, found a box, and placed the dress and rose inside it. He set the box on the bed beside her and left. He didn't want to be there when she woke up. He needed to be far away. He'd come back in a few hours when all of this would be over.

He had waited a few hours after the sun had come up to go back for her. He had figured she'd be up and waiting eagerly for him, wearing her dress to thank him and expecting him to come back some sort of fucking reformed Don Juan Loverboy; yet here he stood and she was gone. Then he heard her. He heard her gurgled sobs from the bathroom. He turned swiftly on his heels and walked briskly for the door. He kicked the door open and she didn't even bother to turn her head to look at him.

"Surprise!" he yelled, his arms spread out in the air hoping to scare her.

She stood in the shower, steamy hot water pouring down over her skin. Even with the water he could see the tears streaming out of her eyes. She stood staring blankly ahead, her eyes glazed. Her sobs sounded like she was choking on air, desperately trying to breathe. His surprise expression changed to a puzzled one. He stared for a moment before he spoke again.

"Angel?" he questioned. "What the hell are you doing? What's wrong with you?"

He watched her wrap her arms tighter around herself, clutching at herself like she was going to fall to pieces. Her teeth were chattering even in the warmth of the water and her expression didn't change one bit. He couldn't be positively sure, but he thought she wasn't even blinking. Had she snapped and gone fucking crazy while he was gone?

He walked closer to her and raised his voice. "Angeline!"

Still nothing, not even a damn _blink_.

He walked right into her line of sight, thoroughly annoyed by her ignoring him. He let out a frustrated growl before he spoke. "Angeline! _Look_ at me when I fucking talk to you! I'm right in front of you, you're not blind! _Look at me_!"

Still nothing. Her disgusting choking sobs grew worse with her shaking. He'd never seen anyone like this before and he had seen a lot of people at their absolute disgusting worst. This was a first.

He gripped his knife in his hand, raising it slightly in her direction. "I don't, uh, I don't know what kind of fucking _game_ you're playing with me right now, but I don't _like_ it. I thought we _agreed_ you'd play by _my_ rules, Angel. You're being _rude_. I'm trying to fucking _kill_ you and you're not even _looking_ at me. You're taking all the fun out of this, y'know? Plus, uh, I'd rather _not_ go the _Psycho_ route. Too _cliché_, y'know? Come on, Angeline! Fucking look at me! You're pissing me off!"

Then he saw her legs begin to shake and buckle at the knees as she started to sway. He absently let the knife slip from his fingers and drop to the floor. He raised both of his hands to her face, gripping both sides firmly, shaking her.

"Angel! Angel, _look_ at me! What is going on? What's _wrong _with you, huh? Come on! Damnit! _Look at me_! Angeline, _please_!"

Then he watched, so confused and helpless, as her eyes rolled back into her head and the choking sobs stopped dead. She started to fall backwards, but he quickly wrapped his arms around her and caught her. He pulled her, dripping wet, from the shower. He was turning to set her down when he slipped in the water and fell back against a wall, pulling her down against him. He briefly cursed himself for not investing in a shower curtain or one of those fucking bath mats. He was right back where he had started. She lay collapsed in his arms again. He eyed his knife on the floor a few feet in front of him. All he would have to do was drop her and he could go get the knife and do what he had planned on doing, but he wasn't going to. No, he wasn't going to kill her today, after all. He sighed heavily and leaned his head back against the wall behind him, pulling her closer to him. He swallowed the lump, or maybe it was bile, in his throat. It was _game over_ alright, but _not_ the way he'd intended it. _Not at all._

He stood and lifted her up in his arms, cradling her against him; her lolling head lay on his shoulder pressed against his neck. He carried her to the bed, grabbing the blanket off it and wrapping it tightly around her. He kicked off his shoes, lying down beside her. He grabbed hold of her, pulling her tightly to him, and held her in his arms. _Fuck_. _She was right_. She was right and there _was_ no going back. He held on tight to her, watching her, _protecting_ what was _his_.

-

**A Note from the Author**: Again I'm sorry this took me as long as it did to get up. I wasn't happy at first at how this chapter was shaping up, but then I got into it and got it the way I wanted it. I knew I wanted it to be different from the other chapters. I wanted to kind of separate them and show their individual thought processes ALONE. I mean I haven't shown them alone and given them that much POV by themselves till this point and I felt it was really needed especially to do what needed to be done in this chapter. If you're confused about Angeline collapsing...it was kind of just a sensory/emotional overload. Almost like her brain was taking in more than it could handle and it just...shut down. I guess kind of almost like post traumatic stress. That's why she collapsed.  
I hope the chapter was worth the wait. I'm on vacation from work this week and will have a lot of time to get some writing done so hopefully you'll see another update real soon. Again a big thank you to all my readers. I see you're reading and I'm thrilled and humbled that you're all taking the time to read what I have put a lot of effort, emotion, and time into writing. Feel free to review at any time, I eat those things up. It's always nice to know peoples thoughts and it's great to have people cheering you on and expressing happiness over your writing. Let's face it, writers LIVE for feedback. We crave it. It's like crack to us. So keep on reading and hit that review button whenever you get the urge, guys! Love to hear from ya. Everyone take care and happy reading/writing! : )


	8. They're All Freaks Waiting to Happen

He felt her stir and he stiffened, keeping his protective hold on her.

She opened her eyes slowly. Something was holding her tightly. It was warm. She was naked and bundled up in soft blanket. How the hell did she wind up here from the shower? She went to move when a strong hand, smeared with make up, caught her face, gently turning her to look up.

"Angeline?" he whispered.

She looked into his eyes. They looked different now. Was he worried? What happened? She pried one of her arms out of her tight bundle and lifted her hand to his cheek, gently stroking the scars there. "Hey. It's _OK_. I'm _here_. What's _wrong_? Are you ok?"

His rough thumb brushed along her cheek. The same look in still in his eyes. He shook his head, swallowed hard and licked his lips. "Not…uh…_not about me_. _You_. Angeline, are you OK?"

She looked at him, confused. "Of course. I'm _fine_. What's wrong? What happened? _Tell me_!"

He let out a frustrated growl and rolled his eyes. "You don't _remember_ anything? Aren't you, uh, maybe the _least_ bit _curious_ as to why you're _wet_ and, uh, _very_ much _naked _in my arms? Hm?"

"The thought crossed my mind, yes, but I was more concerned about _you_."

He stared at her for a moment, closing his eyes tight briefly. When he opened them back up the worry was replaced with something else. "Not good. _No_. Listen, uh, _don't bother_ worrying about _me_. _Ever_. _Not worth it_."

"Maybe not to _you_, but it is to _ME_," she gripped his face harder.

"That's," he chewed on the inside of his cheek and licked his lips. "_That's_ what I was _afraid _of. You _shouldn't_, you know. I'm just, uh, not the _right_ kind of _guy_ for you. You're digging an early _grave_ with me. I'm, uh, I'm just not the _type_ of guy you _need_ or, uh, _deserve_."

"_Shut up_."

He looked at her like a small child would after having been slapped unexpectedly for misbehaving. The look was almost painful to her. She leaned in slightly and kissed him on the lips.

"Listen to me," she had her hand back on his cheek again, gently stroking with her thumb. "I could say the same to _you_. I'm no prize. I'm a big girl, ok? I know what I want and I want _you_. It doesn't _have_ to make sense. Half the shit in this world doesn't make _sense_, but that doesn't stop what happens from happening. _Try_ to understand that. _Please_? I _know_ what I'm doing."

He pulled her lips to his and kissed her hard. When his lips left hers he brushed her wet hair out of her face and grinned wide at her. "You _don't_. You _don't_ know what you're doing, Angeline, and that's my _point_."

She traced her fingers along his Chelsea grin and whispered. "Please. _Trust me_."

His grin faded to a half grin. "Oh, I _do_. It's _me_ I don't _trust_, Angel. Neither should _you_."

She kissed him again, lingering on his lips longer this time. She nodded at him. "I _shouldn't_, but I _do_."

The smile left his face and he sighed heavily, his face growing serious. "I _warned_ you. You're making a _mistake_. A _big_ fucking one. It could…uh…It could cost you _everything_."

She shook her head. "I've already lost everything _once_, and I'm not about to lose it all _again_."

He balled up his fists and uttered a few choice words under his breath. She decided it would be best to change the subject before things got out of hand. He was getting angry.

"So are you going to tell me why I'm _naked_?"

He rolled his eyes at her, slowly relaxing his fists. "_Right_. Now you suddenly _want_ to know."

She nodded. "I'm waiting."

"Well…What's the last thing you _remember_?"

She paused, thinking. "I remember…taking a shower…and I remember seeing your face."

He sucked in a big breath, drawing it out. "I came home and heard you in the shower so I burst in and found you, uh, staring at the wall. I kept talking to you, but it was like…Like you weren't really there. You just kept staring at that _fucking_ wall. I kept calling to you and you never, uh, _never_ replied. You just…just stood there _shaking_ and _crying_. I've, uh, I've seen a _lot_ of _shit_ in my life, but _that_…" He paused, his eyes distant, not looking directly at her. "You, uh, you _freaked me out_."

She watched him fidgeting with the collar of his shirt and lick his lips as he spoke. He just couldn't sit still and his forehead kept an almost constant crease.

He laughed a little. "Then you passed out and almost fell and smacked your head on the wall. I _really_ wish I had invested in one of those, uh, what the fuck do you _call_ those things? Bath mat? Yeah. Wish I'd had one of those and probably a, uh, _shower curtain _would have helped too. Anyway, I caught you. I wound up falling in a puddle of _your_ bath water and you came crashing down on _me_. Don't think there's a _scratch_ on you, but I can't say the same for _me_. Think I, uh, might have _broke my ass_."

She stifled a giggle. "Sorry."

He reached out and stroked her cheek and leaned in like he might kiss her. He hesitated and then pulled away, swallowing hard and licking his lips. "Do you, uh, do you mind maybe telling me _what_ all of that _shit_ you pulled was _about_?"

She frowned. "I'm…I'm not really _sure_. I think I just had a lot on my mind. I told you most of what I remember."

"Yeah? Do you, uh, do you do that shit _often_? Because if so I'm locking the bathroom door when I leave from now on. You _might_ want to tell me about that sort of thing, Angel."

She shook her head, feeling ashamed. "No. That was _definitely_ a first."

He stared at her and laughed a little. She leaned in and kissed his scarred cheek and whispered in his ear. "Thank you."

His face contorted then and he gripped her face hard in both of his hands. His eyes were blazing with emotion and rage as he spoke through clenched teeth. "_Why. Are. You. Thanking. Me_?"

"For catching me," she smiled cautiously. "For caring enough to save me."

He looked pained and distant again. He loosened his grip on her face. "_This time_. I _saved_ you _this_ time. I can't promise I'll _always_ save you. Angeline…I'm a _killer_ for fuck's sake. _Look at me_! I'm…_I'm not Batman_. _He's_ the one who makes the living out of _saving_ those who _need_ saving. I just…I _kill_ people. And I…I don't…uh…I _don't_…want…"

"You don't want what? It's _ok_. Tell me."

"I don't…_want_ to…_kill_ you. Anymore. Right now. You'd be safer out there with _him_. _Not here_. Not with _me_."

She kissed him hard on the lips several times, tears stinging her eyes. When her lips were free from his she opened her eyes and stared back into his dark eyes. She spoke in almost a whisper. "I don't want to be out there with _him_. _He_ can't save me. I don't need to be saved by _him_. _I need you_. I _want_ to be here…with _you_. You _saved_ me. Don't you get it? You saved me more than _once_. I am _not_ leaving you. I _can't_."

He sighed painfully. "I wish you _would_."

"Why? You don't want me?"

He kissed her and shook his head. "No. I _do_. See, that's, uh, _that's_ the problem. I _want_ you to stay more than I _should_. I shouldn't _want_ you. See, I may _look_ crazy, but uh, I'm _sane_ enough to know it's not good for you. _I'm_ not good for you."

"If I go back out there, my chances of having a life worth _living_ are much worse. If I leave I lose _everything _all over again. I'll what? I'll go on _pretending_ to live a life that doesn't even _exist_. Now, if I stay with you…I'm _not_ pretending, you see? With _you_, I'm actually _living_. Stop fighting this, _please_. Don't you get it? This is how it _has_ to be. You save me and I'll save you."

He shook his head. "No. _Too late for me_. I don't _need_ saving."

She looked into his eyes. "I'm _not_ leaving you."

"I could _kill_ you. In fact I've _tried_ to, uh, _several_ times now."

"You won't."

"I _could_. You _don't_ know, Angeline. You _don't_!"

"Yes, I _do_. You _won't_."

"Goddamnit, Angeline! You don't _know_ that! _I could_! _I_ don't even know for _sure_. I mean, _right now_ I don't want to, but who's to say I won't in an hour, or uh, a couple days from now, huh? You could be making some macaroni and cheese and maybe I, uh, maybe I don't like the _butter_ you're using and I could _snap_ and then _bam_ your head is in the pot _boiling_ with the noodles. Or maybe we'd be fucking and I'm just _not_ satisfied with it and I decide to _break you in half_. Or perhaps, uh, the next time you decide to take another _shower_ I throw you down on the floor and _stab you to death_. Y'see, anything…_anything_ could set it all off. So…_you don't know_. _That's_ the _life_ you'd be _living_ with me, Angel. _Always_ wondering if you're going to do something that's going to make me _snap_ and fucking _kill_ you."

"You could kill me, yes. I _get_ that, but I'm _not_ worried about that. I'm _not_ leaving. I know what you _could_ do, but I don't think you _will_. I don't think you will and you should know by now that it just doesn't _matter_ to me if you do."

"I know, but isn't it, uh maybe just a _little_ bit _insane_ to have a, uh, _relationship_ built on terms like that? I mean I, uh, I thought that _normal_ people…_Normal_ people, they uh, they meet and fall in _love_ and they have some sort of _sickeningly_ sweet _fling_, right? They…_Normal_ people wouldn't, uh, wouldn't _dare_ get into a _relationship_ where one of them knows they could be hurt, killed, and the other knows that they could…they could hurt or kill the person they, uh, claim to _love_ at any moment. I mean, correct me if I'm _wrong_, but uh, that just…_That's not normal_. That's _wrong_ and it's a _little_ bit…_fucked _up."

She stared back at him for a long moment before she broke out suddenly laughing. "_You're_ telling _me_ that _I'm_ not normal? That what _I'm_ doing is insane? _Honestly_? Have you _looked_ in a fucking mirror today?"

His eyes narrowed and he inhaled a sharp breath, smacking and licking his lips when he exhaled. He smiled darkly at her, grabbing her by the jaw tightly like he had done so many other times, and pulled her closer to him. "_I have_. _Terrifies_ me _every_ fucking time, but, uh, gotta _see_ to put the make up on, y'know?" He grinned wide and laughed darkly. "Y'see I may not be, uh, anywhere _close_ to the definition of _normal_, but I, uh, I do know what normal is. Good judge of _character_, remember?"

He smiled again and licked his lips, staring at her for a moment before continuing. "Y'see I _know_ I'm not…_normal_, but if _something_ that wasn't normal didn't, uh, _exist_ to _compare_ then _there would be no normal_. See, everyone would be the _same_. And I gotta tell ya, that would be awfully fucking _boring_."

He laughed again and gripped her tighter still, looking directly into her eyes, his lips practically touching hers. "See, I am who I am…Uh…I _exist_ to give _normal_ people a kind of _fear_…a _balance_. They can all live their happy little _normal_ lives in their closed up _pitifully_ normal worlds, but, uh, they'll _always_ fear turning into what they fear the most, what they don't _know_, what they don't _understand_. _Me_. _The darkness_. See, they'll _always_ fear that one day _something_ is going to change in their normal little lives that's going to send them _right over the edge_. One _bad_ day, one _little_ slip up, and uh, they become _me_."

The smile was gone from his face and he looked eerily serious, his lips curled into almost a snarl as he spoke. "See, after you cross that _line_ and you stay in the dark for so long, it uh, it _becomes_ normal to you. You stay like _this" _he licked his lips to point out his scars. "And…uh, well everyone _else_ becomes the fucking _freak waiting to happen_. Once you're a _freak_ you don't, uh, you _don't_ go back."

She felt his grasp loosen on her and she was able to whisper to him. "Not just _you_. _Not a freak_. Neither of us is _normal_. I don't _want_ to be normal. I've lived that life and it's over and _done_ for me. I had my bad day. You've had yours, obviously. We can have _something_. Not the _normal_ something that _normal_ people have, but something that works for _us_. This isn't about anyone else."

"You've seen what living in the _dark_ is like, Angeline. You've gotten a _taste_ of it, but you can still go back to a _normal_ happy life. That _light_ is still on your horizon, you haven't fallen _that_ far over the edge yet. You aren't on, uh, _my_ level. You don't _have_ to stay here. You don't have to _pretend_ to want this fucked up life because you're _scared_ of, uh, never feeling _alive_ again. Any _normal_ guy could be what you need, if you _let_ him. You could go out there and find fucking Fabio riding on his noble, glorious white steed down the streets of Gotham and he can whisk you off to the love palace of your dreams." He cracked a smile then got serious again, licking his lips, his dark eyes staring straight into hers. "You and Fabio could have all sorts of kids with glorious flowing blonde locks and beautiful faces…like _yours_. They'd have _your_ eyes…_your_ face. You could _have_ that life. Don't, uh, don't think that I'm your _only_ option. I just came along at the right, or uh, maybe _wrong_ time and somehow I made you _feel_ what you _needed_ to feel. You just…you're _confusing_ me with something _good_. Your head is clouded and you just _think_ you want me now, but uh, you'll probably _regret_ that. Don't make an _ignorant _choice, because you _aren't_."

"Did it _occur_ to you that _maybe_ I don't _want_ that life? That maybe I just want _you_? That maybe I'm not confused and you really _are_ what I need? I _know_ what I'm missing and I'm not missing _shit_ out there, ok? Especially _Fabio_. Give me a _break_. _This_ is where I want to be. I don't see the light on the horizon because the _only_ light I see is _you_, in the darkness. Now, either you _want_ me here too or you _don't_. If you don't then just fucking _say_ it and I'll be _gone_. I'll go back to 'living' my life. _I'll die again_."

He clenched his jaw tight, working the muscles as he took her face gently in his hands, wiping away the tears that had formed with his thumbs. "You don't _deserve_ me. You deserve _better_."

She placed her hands on top of his, squeezing them. "What do _you_ deserve?"

His voice was almost a whisper. "_Not you_. _Nothing_."

"_Wrong_."

He shook his head. "No…I'm _not_. What have I done…_ever_ to deserve _anything_ in my life, hm? _Nothing_. I don't, uh, I don't _deserve_ things. I _take_ things. I _do_ things. I just…I take what I want and I do what _needs_ to be done."

"Then you could just take _me_, right? Even if you don't think that you deserve me. You could _take_ me just because you _can_, because you _want_ to. You can be with me because it's necessary because I just won't fucking leave, and _somewhere_…somewhere inside your head you don't _want_ me to leave either. This is the only _reasonable_ solution. _Just take me_."

He shifted her off of him, laying her at his side on her back. He pulled the wrapped blanket apart from her and straddled her. He bent down, kissing and biting her neck passionately. He trailed his kisses hurriedly up her jaw and to her mouth where her lips excitedly melted and moved with his. Her hands had quickly knotted in his hair holding him tightly to her. He freed his lips, tracing hers with his tongue.

"_All right_. You, uh, you make a _good point_. Don't say I didn't _warn_ you and you're, uh, welcome to leave, but if you want me, well…Here I am. Fighting with you on this just doesn't seem to be _getting_ us anywhere. And, uh, you're _right_. I _do_ want you. Regardless of if I deserve you or if I should. So…does the offer, uh, still _stand_?"

"Yes," she breathed, nodding.

He smiled, licking his lips. His eyes were wild with desire and emotion. "Good."

He bent his lips to hers again and they melted together. He knew he didn't _deserve_ her, but god he _wanted_ her. He washed all his nagging thoughts out of his head and let his emotions take over for once. He concentrated on one thing and one thing only. _Angel_. The way she _felt_, the way she _tasted_. Truly the _forbidden_ fruit.


	9. Later

Angeline sighed into his chest, idly running her fingers softly along his scarred body. He lay there silently, holding her against him. She listened to his steady breathing, slowing now along with his heart.

"Something, uh, _bothering_ you, Angel?" he spoke quietly.

"No. Just thinking…" she replied, continuing to run her fingers along him.

He shifted her up on her side next to him so he could look at her face. He placed his index finger under her chin and tilted her head up to his level. "You're not, uh, having _second thoughts_ now are you? Huh?"

She rolled her eyes at him and grabbed the hand that was under her chin, entwining her fingers in his. She smiled as his eyes shifted to their hands, mesmerized. "Get used to that. I'm _not_ leaving. When I said I was thinking, I was thinking about your _name_. I want to know your _real_ name. Will you tell me?"

"_Told_ you. _Joker_," he continued to look at their hands, avoiding eye contact with her. His forehead was creased and he was clenching the muscles in his jaw tightly.

"No. That's a name you go by for people that _don't _care about you. People who you don't want to know the real you. It's _not_ your real name. You aren't fooling anybody. Please let me in. Tell me who you _really_ are."

His eyes lingered on their hands a moment longer before he lifted his eyes to hers. After a few moments of his dark eyes searching deep into hers the crease in his forehead faded. He sucked in a breath and licked his lips. His voice was so low she might not have heard it had he not been so close to her. "_Jack_, but I can't _remember_ the last time _anybody's_ called me _that_. I've, uh, I've been _Joker_ for so long I guess I just don't really _remember_ being Jack."

She scooted closer to him. She reached her hand up to brush some of his hair out of his face, kissing his lips softly as one of his hands held her to him by the small of her back. She opened her eyes and found him looking back at her. She spoke her next word hesitantly, afraid that the word could be as harmful as a grenade, but needing to say it anyways. "Jack?"

"Hm?" he raised his eyebrows slightly, the name still unfamiliar to him.

"I…" she hesitated to continue as the crease in his forehead returned and his eyes darted away from hers. He was putting his shield back up. It was now or never. She had to say it. "I love you, Jack. I don't know how it happened, but it did. I _love_ you."

His eyes quickly darted back up to hers as his hand found the back of her head, gripping her. "_What_? What did you just _say_?"

"I said I _love_ you, Jack. I love you and I'm yours."

He looked into her eyes for a moment before he closed his own. He sucked in a breath through his clenched teeth before he spoke to her. "Angeline?"

She mentally braced herself for the backlash that she was sure was coming. She knew he wouldn't just reply back to her that he loved her too. He wasn't that type of man and this wasn't that type of relationship. She said what she said because she needed to tell him exactly how she felt. "Yes?"

His eyes opened back and found hers again. "The _shower_. I, uh, I _didn't_ go in there to…_save_ you. I…Y'see I, uh, went in there to _kill_ you. Thought you should, uh, _know_ that."

She looked at him confused. What was he doing? "What?"

"Yeah…I, uh, I woke up with _you_ in my, uh, _arms_. I've…I've, well, y'see I'm not _used_ to _feeling_ the way I did, so I _left_. I left and, well, I made up my mind that all of this _shit_ had been _blown way_ out of _proportion_. I, uh, I _planned_ to come home and _kill_ you. See, I _really meant to_, but, uh, _you had other plans_. I just couldn't, uh, _couldn't_ do it. Not like…_that_. Not…_Not_, uh, _you_."

"Jack," her eyes were filled with confusion and hurt. "Why are you even telling me this? Why now?"

"_Because_ you had to tell _me_ that _you_, uh, you….Y'know…You…" he was choking on the word. He shook his head and started over. "You _had_ to tell me that you, uh, you _love me_. Listen, I _don't_ deserve that. I just gave you _proof_, Angel. I'm _telling_ you that I tried to _kill_ you when you _thought_ I was, uh, _saving_ you. See, now it _should_ be _pretty_, uh, fucking _evident_ that I'm _nothing_ but a _killer_. I've just, uh, I've just _provided_ you with a pretty good _reason_ to run _far_ away from here and _never_ look back."

She sighed. "No you're missing the _point_. The point is that you _didn't_ kill me. You _couldn't_. I'm still _alive_. There's obviously _something_ holding us to each other. I mean, even _you_ can't deny that. Please just stop trying to _fight_ me every step of the way. Stop trying to convince me to leave. _Please_?"

He let out a low growl with a heavy sigh. He nodded slightly at her, not wanting to.

"I _love_ you. I _meant_ that. I'm _not_ going anywhere, _ever_. Nothing changes that. _Nothing_."

"Angeline?"

"What?"

He pulled her lips to his, kissing her hard. When his lips left hers he smiled at her. "You're, uh, you're fucking _crazy_. You know that, _right_?"

She laughed slightly, lifting her hand up to lightly trace his scars. "I know, but in case you didn't notice you aren't exactly the poster child of _sanity_, either."

He shook his head. "I _know_. _Tell _me _something_. I'm, uh, _I'm curious_."

"Anything."

"_Tell_ me _why_ you don't _care_ that I tried to _kill_ you, more than _once_. Hm? _Why_ doesn't it _matter_ in the, uh, _slightest_ that my _plan_ all along was to _fuck_ with you…to, uh, _break_ you. That the _instant_ I saw even the _slightest_ little, uh, _trace_ of _fear_ from you that I would simply _kill_ you. Tell me _what_ about _any of me_ screams, uh, _love_ or, uh, _boyfriend_ material to you? Huh?"

She stared at him for a few moments before she sighed and looked seriously at him. When would she _ever_ be able to stop explaining all of this to him? When would he _ever_ get it? "Well…Plans _change_, Jack. It's a fact of life. They just _do_. I had a few _plans_ myself, you know? You already knew, of course, that when we first met my plan was to let you kill me. I wasn't bothered by you _then_ and I'm _still_ not bothered by you now. Killers and psychopaths don't bother me. How could they? _I was one_, remember?"

She smiled slightly at the grin that he couldn't suppress. "Now I had a _plan_ for you, too, the moment I woke up tied to your bed and realized you just wanted to fucking _torture_ me. I wanted to torture you right back. I wanted to _break_ you too, Jack. Believe me. I wanted to break you and I wanted to _laugh_ at the pathetic broken mess I left you in. Then I wanted to run. I wanted to run as far from you as I _possibly_ could. I wanted to _hate_ you…I _really_ did. I wanted to hate you for not killing me. I wanted to hate you for taking away the last little _traces_ of Eric that I was holding onto. I wanted to hate you for _kissing_ me, for _touching_ me. I just…_couldn't_. I _couldn't_ hate you, even if I _tried_. When you offered me the chance to _kill_ you…I knew I _should_ have wanted to. I mean, Christ, I killed Eric why couldn't I kill _you_? But then I looked into your _eyes_…not only did I see _myself_ there, but I saw _you_. I _really_ saw you for the first time. There was _no way_ I could kill you."

He watched her closely as she spoke to him. How could their plans all have gone so _wrong_? They should have both been _dead_. How did this all lead to them lying here _naked_ in each other's arms? More importantly, how did she fall…in _love_ with him? What a fucking _mess_.

"When I realized I couldn't kill you…and I realized that I was actually _glad_ that you _got rid_ of Eric for me…well, it was only a matter of time, Jack. It was only a matter of time until I realized how much I _wanted_ you…until I realized that somehow in some sick twist of _fate_ that I fell in _love_ with you. So, you see, the fact that you had _plans_ to kill me just _doesn't_ bother me. _I_ had _plans_ too. Now, here we are. We're both _alive_ and…" she straddled him suddenly. "_Naked_."

He grinned wildly and placed his hands on her hips. Even if he couldn't exactly believe in the idea of _love_…well, he sure could get _used_ to all the _fucking_. He was a _man_, after all. He had to admit that he _really_ liked that _willingness_ and _spunk_ she had. Plus, he was _infatuated_ with her incredibly beautiful body, and somehow she seemed to be infatuated with _his_ for some reason. "Mmm, now, _now_, Angel. _Careful_. That's, uh, that's getting me a _little horny_ now."

She looked down at him, smiling. She could feel his excitement pressing into her. She absolutely loved having that power over him. "You say that like it's a _bad_ thing."

He grinned, a thought suddenly coming to him as he glanced over at his clock. He grabbed her tight by the hips, tossing her over onto her back, straddling her now. "Well, right _now_ it _is_. See, we were in the _middle_ of _talking_. Can't, uh, _can't_ have you distracting me with an _enticing fuck_ every time we try and have a _conversation_, now _can_ I? Hm?"

She frowned, feeling confused and turned down. "What _more_ is there to discuss, exactly? I thought we were _done_."

He grinned wide at her, laughing as he quickly slipped off of her and stood. He tossed her dress at her and began putting his own clothes on, keeping eye contact with her. "It's, uh, it's _time_ to get _dressed_. See, I've got an _appointment_. Y'know how _work_ is _right_? Always _popping up_ when you _don't_ want it to."

She watched him and nodded at him, still wondering where he was going with this.

"I've, uh, I've got a _proposal_ for you, Angel. Since you _seem_ to regard me in such a high, uh, _manner_…well I thought _maybe_ you might want to, uh, _tag along_ with me on this little _business errand_. Maybe if you _see_ a little bit of, uh, who I _really_ am…_maybe_ then you'll _take back_ that whole, uh, _love_ statement and _run_, hm?"

She watched him hastily throw on his clothes, taking care with the buttons on his shirt. She looked up into his eyes while he talked. What the hell was _wrong_ with him? When was he _ever_ going to get it that she _wasn't_ leaving and she didn't care about the things he did and had done in the past? She knew most men had commitment issues, but this was _bizarre_. Tell the man you _love_ him and he decides to take you along with him on what is probably some sort of _killing_ spree. That's _logical_ right? Well, the joke was still on him. She was _intrigued_ to see what kind of business he planned on doing and she'd go with him and she'd still _stay_. She _meant _what she had said. Against all logic and sanity she had fallen in _love_ with him and she would _never_ take that back.

He pulled his tie on and adjusted it, watching her closely. He could tell by the look in her eyes as she looked up at him that she wasn't even fazed. Part of him, the _normal_ part of him that he was _used_ to, wanted this little plan to work. That part of him wanted her to tag along, see him kill, be _horrified_, and run away fast, _never_ to return. Then there was that _new_ part, so _unfamiliar_ to him, which actually wanted her to go along and be _fascinated_. That new part of him wanted what she had said to be _true_, wanted to see her standing there smiling with open arms after he finished his _work_. _Damnit_. He _hated_ this fucking _duality_.

He slid his coat on as he watched her put her strapless bra on and stand to pull the dress on. She adjusted the dress and quickly ran her fingers through her hair. She looked up at him and smiled. He sucked in a breath and shook his head at her, laughing slightly.

She frowned at him as she slipped on the shoes he had placed next to her. "What? Do I look terrible? Oh _shit_. Does it make me look _fat_ or something? What's…?"

Before she could finish her question he was in front of her and had grabbed her with one hand by the small of her back, pulling her to him. He bent his face against her cheek, nuzzling his scarred cheek against her soft, perfect cheek. He placed his lips against her ear, whispering in a hungry, seductive tone. "Shhh. _Such a woman_. _You_ look good enough for _me_ to, uh, _forget_ about my little _errand_ and stay here and _fuck your brains out_ instead."

She smiled against his warm cheek, whispering back. "So why don't you?"

He shook with laughter against her. "Now, _now_. As _beautiful_ and, uh, _criminally_ fucking _hot_ as you may look right now in that dress," he paused to lick his lips. "I _do_ have _work_ to attend to. Can't, uh, can't bring Gotham to its _knees_ and watch it _burn_ when I'm in here all day on top of _you_, can I? Nope. _Couldn't_ do it."

She groaned into him. "Fine. Ok."

He licked her earlobe. "Hey, not to _worry_, sweetness. If, uh, if you're still _around_ after watching me _work_, then there will be _plenty_ of time for _that_. See, I gotta have _some_ priorities, Angel. Bring Gotham to its knees _now_ and, uh, take you home and bring you to _yours_ later."

He had her by the hand now and was pulling her with him towards the door in a hurry. She caught a quick glimpse of his face, realizing that the make-up was practically all gone. She remembered the vivid paint he had on his face when he was _working_ that day at the vault. She wondered if he had noticed. "Jack…Your _make-up_ is gone."

He stopped walking and whirled around on his heels. He was in her face, looking confused. "_What_?"

She touched his face, lightly stroking it. "Your make-up is mostly gone. I just thought that you usually had it on when you went to _work_. I thought I would tell you."

He nodded at her. The words he uttered next were a jumbled almost incoherent mess as he strode off to the bathroom. "_Shit_. Right. _Forgot_. Put the _make-up_ on. _Have to_. Catch _her_ from falling in the _shower_. Fucking _wet_. Break my _ass_. _Fuck_. Of _course_ it's fucking _gone_. _Can't_ go off looking like _that_. Fucking _shit_. Losing my _goddamn mind_. Gonna be _late_. _Fuck_."

She watched from the bathroom doorway as he haphazardly and hurriedly threw his signature war paint on. He was a man possessed putting it on. It looked like there was no real method to it for him; he was just so used to doing it that he had the whole process down to about a minute. She had to admit she had always wondered why he even bothered with the whole stupid mess, she had been so curious to see the man beneath that shocking make-up. Now she knew. Now she felt almost excited to watch him putting it on now. Wow. She was attracted to and in _love_ with a fucking killer in clown make-up. The worst part was that she didn't even _care_.

He was right in front of her now. He laughed as she jumped slightly. "What's the _matter_, Angel? Too _scary_? Did ya, uh, think I was the _boogeyman_?"

She shook her head, looking up into his eyes. "No. I _like_ it."

He stared at her for a moment, seriously. She thought he was going to get mad or argue with her until he started laughing and cracked a half grin. He grabbed her by the hand again pulling her towards the door, muttering back to her. "_Later_. Let's _go_."


	10. The Punch Line

He pulled her out into a long narrow hallway lit by one flickering light bulb overhead. He stepped down onto a landing. The stairs were metal with wide open slots. He stared down at the stairs for a moment then he turned toward her and eyeballed the black heels she wore on her feet.

"Hmm. That's a, uh, _problem_," he murmured looking up at her face. "Come here. You're going for a _ride_ with me."

She looked at the stairs and then smiled at him as she walked towards him. He motioned his purple gloved hands for her to come closer to him. He reached his arms out towards her and lifted her to him almost effortlessly. He leaned her top half over his shoulder holding one hand tightly to her back securing her against him. His other arm wrapped around her legs below her butt. He heard her let out a small giggle and as he started down the stairs with her he laughed a little too. "Later, Angel. _Later_."

They reached the end of the stairs all too soon. He gently set her down on the floor in front of him. In the almost complete darkness she could still see his bright white face in front of hers. She could still see the whites of his dark eyes looking at her and she could still make out the grin on his face before he grabbed hold of her hand again.

"I know its dark," he was walking off now, slowing his pace a little as he tugged her along. "Just, uh, stay _close_ to me. They'll be out front waiting for me. Course they, uh, they won't be expecting _you_ so just keep quiet and I'll handle it. You _have_ to stay close to _me_. Think you can handle this? You, uh, you can turn around now, y'know? You don't _have _to go."

She squeezed his hand. "I think I can handle this. Besides, I'd never make it back up those fucking stairs if I could even _find_ them in this darkness. I'm ready, Jack. I'll stay close to you. It's not that hard."

"Oh, and another thing," he whirled around to face her, his breath falling on her face. "Don't _ever_ call me _that_ in front of _anyone_. Understand?"

She nodded at him and saluted him with one hand, even though she was pretty sure he couldn't even see her doing it. "Yes sir, Mr. Joker."

"_Cute_, Angel, but uh, _not_ funny. This isn't a_ joke_. _Behave_. Your uh, your life and probably mine _depend_ on that."

She squeezed his hand again. "Would you _please_ stop worrying? I'll be good. It's ok. I promise."

He turned back around and started leading her towards a metal garage door. He opened it almost halfway. The glow of the street lamps outside poured in through the open door. "Now I _know_ you're, uh, _flexible_. Just follow me."

His tall lanky figure crouched down and rolled outside in one swift movement. She saw his tattered brown shoes peeking out from the other side, tapping against the ground impatiently. She eyed the space between the ground and the door warily. She was trying to think about how she was going to fit through when she saw his knees on the ground and his hand came through the opening, searching for hers. "Come on. Just take my _hand_, Angel. We gotta _go_! _Now_. Come on."

She grabbed onto his hand and crouched down. She was going to roll herself out, but his other hand came through and rolled her out to face him, holding her against him on the cold ground. He grinned for a moment at her and then turned serious, talking fast. "There's a, uh, _bounty_ on my head. Some asshole who, uh, didn't quite like me and my _ideas_ too much. So...well y'see I'm, uh, I'm going to _collect_ on that bounty tonight."

He stood up suddenly and pulled her up with him. He lifted one leg and set his foot on the handle of the garage door before stomping the door shut. He bent quickly and secured it with a lock. He grabbed her by the hand about to walk off with her towards the dark SUV that sat parked in front of them on the street. The back door closest to them was open with no lights on inside and no headlights either.

"No. Wait," she tugged on him pulling him back against her. She searched into his eyes. "If the bounty's on _you_ how can you coll…"

"_Trust_. _Me_," he replied firmly. "Keep _quiet_. Come on."

He pulled her towards the open car door, stopping right outside of it. He placed his hand on her back and slightly pushed at her. He whispered through clenched teeth. "_Get_. _In_."

She carefully ducked inside of the car and slid over, leaving him room. She could feel multiple pairs of eyes on her. It made her skin crawl and she was more than relieved when he swiftly slid into the car beside her and slammed the door shut. He hit the back of the seat in front of him hard.

"What the hell are you _waiting_ for, huh? _Christmas_? Drive. _Now_!"

The ignition turned and the car set off in motion down the abandoned alley. She didn't even bother to look out the tinted windows. She kept her eyes on him. He stared straight ahead for a little while until one of the pairs of eyes in the front passenger seat spoke after clearing his throat. She watched Jack's eyes slowly narrow at the man.

"Boss," the man spoke nervously. "She wasn't part of the plan. Should we really be taking her along? I mean is that a good idea? Who is she?"

She watched as Jack's lips curled up into a sickening smile that was more like a snarl. He laughed, bouncing in his seat as he reached into his coat. _Oh shit_. This wasn't Jack anymore, this was _Joker_. She watched him suddenly lunge forward grabbing the man's neck with his hands. She could hear the material of his gloves squeaking as he tightened his grip on the man. "Well…Uh, _Steve_, right?"

The man spoke in barely a whisper. "Y…yes, sir."

"Well…y'see, _Steve_…" he spoke calmly to the man before he plunged his knife straight into his throat. Now he was yelling so deep that it actually sent chills through her body. "It's none of your fucking _business_!"

He wiped the knife clean on the back of the chair, holding it out still, spinning it slowly around in his hand as he spoke to rest of the men in the car. "Anymore of you _assholes_ got any, uh, _more_ stupid fucking questions like good ole _Steve_ up there? Hm? No? _Good_."

He slid his knife back into his coat. He ran his fingers through his hair and cracked his neck trying to keep his eyes fixed in front of him. He wasn't sure if he _wanted_ to see her reaction right now. He wasn't sure how he would react to her reaction at this point. He figured she would probably be sitting there wide-eyed and frozen with disgust and fear. He couldn't trust himself to be ok with that right now. But he _had_ to know. _Fuck_. He hated that he just _had_ to shift his eyes over to her.

She watched him put his knife back into his coat. She was suddenly reminded of her old cat she had had when she was a little girl. He was a wild black and white cat that stayed outdoors because her parents couldn't stand the sight of the poor thing. Actually, most people couldn't stand the sight of him because he wasn't cute and cuddly like most cats were, but there was just something about the cat that she loved. He had matted fur, was missing fur in several places, and had quite a few ugly battle wounds including one missing leg. She called him Herman. When Herman was around her he was nothing but purrs and love. He would come running to her and would instantly flop over onto his side purring up a storm as she would gladly stroke his furry white belly. Sometimes though, she would sit outside on her swing and she would see Herman with another cat. He would suddenly curl his lips back, baring his fierce teeth to the other cat. His eyes would turn black and wide as he arched his back and growled a deep threatening growl at the other cat. Then he would suddenly lunge forward and attack the other cat at a blindingly fast speed, biting and clawing away at the other cat, not caring about the pain and damage he was inflicting. Then just like that, Herman would stand surveying the bloody beaten mess he had left the other cat in and he would cover his teeth back up, straighten out his back, and would come running back to her. She used to think that Herman was like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde that he had some kind of monster in him that would come out sometimes, but he always had that purring loving side to him.

She glanced at the front passenger seat. Steve sat motionless and covered in his own blood. Just like that. That's all it had taken. One simple question and a man's life was gone in seconds with the flick of Joker's knife. He made it look so simple, so _easy_. It was. She knew that all to well.

She turned her gaze away from Steve's. What's done was _done_. She knew this is what she'd see tonight. She knew this is who Jack…who _Joker_ was. He was a _killer_. She knew that. _So what_? So was she. Who was she to discriminate? Who was she to _care_?

She swallowed hard and turned her gaze to him. He was still staring straight ahead, working the muscles in his jaw and licking his lips, his gloved hands rested stiffly on his knees. He turned his gaze suddenly to her. His eyes bore into hers. She supposed he had been expecting her to look afraid of maybe disgusted. She wasn't. She _should_ be, but she _wasn't_. She stared back at him. _No_. Those still weren't the eyes of someone she could hate or run from. _Ever_. She was still staring into the dark, complicated eyes of the man she had fallen in love. She knew in that instant that he could probably slaughter a hundred people right in front of her tonight and she would still _love_ him. She didn't have to _like_ it, the killing, but she could _accept_ it. She could live with it if it meant keeping him. This was all just part of who he was.

He expected to see fear in her eyes for the first time when he glanced at her. _Oh, Angel_. He was looking right back into the same blue eyes she always looked at him with, no trace of fear. Part of him wanted to be _happy_ about that and part of him still wanted to put fear into those beautiful fucking eyes. Either way, the night was still young.

"This is the place right?" the driver spoke suddenly.

Jack turned his head to look out the window. She turned her head too. They were in a shady district of Gotham. This is the part of the city she would never even _drive_ through. The place looked like some sort of a bar or club, but it looked closed.

"This is _it_," he finally replied. "Pull over _there_ and, uh, turn the headlights off."

The driver did exactly as he was told. They were parked on the opposite side of the street, down far enough that whoever was in the building wouldn't be able to see them, but close enough, she supposed, that a quick getaway would be achievable.

He reached his hand back behind him. "The _bags_?"

She watched curiously as one of the shady looking men behind her handed him several large black garbage bags. What the hell could he possibly need those for? Money?

He looked at her for a moment with the bags still in his hands, before he spoke. "Gonna need your _help_. Have to, uh, put the _body_ in the bags."

She looked warily up front at Steve, cringing. She heard the other men in the car laugh slightly. Now she didn't care if killing is what he had to do, but she hadn't been mentally prepared to help with the _clean up_.

"What?" she sounded so weak and she knew it. She hated that. "What body? _Him_?"

She felt his gloved hand cup her face and turn her gently towards him. He was close enough to her now that he could whisper just audible enough for her to hear. "Not _him_, sweetness. No. _Me_. Bounty's on _me_, Angel."

He felt her stiffen and heard her swallow hard before hissing through clenched teeth, "What the _fuck_ are you _talking_ about?! Are you asking me to kill you again? Because how many times do I have to tell you _no_! How could you even _think_…?"

He pressed his thumb against her lips before she could finish. "Shh, shh, _shhh_. Didn't say I wanted you to _kill_ me, Angel. I just need you to, uh, help me put these _bags _on so my men here can deliver my _body_ to the, uh, _stupid fuck_ in there."

She shook her head. She had no idea what any of this even meant. "Why? _No_! I'm _not_ doing this. I don't understand. This is fucking craz…"

He growled, rolling his eyes. "_Trust_ me, please? Just _do_ what I _say_. All you have to do is _drape_ them on me. I'm not asking you to uh, shove my _dead body_ or anybody else's for _that matter_ into these bags. I'm just staging an _illusion_ here, Angel."

She looked into his eyes as he looked back into hers. She couldn't help thinking what if this was the last time she got to look at him alive? She suddenly deeply regretted going on this stupid fucking errand with him. She nodded at him and reached her hand out for the bags. He placed them in her hand and smiled.

"Now," he spoke up so everyone else could hear him. "The plan is the same, but uh, just a _couple_ of minor _tweaks_. Just carry me in and deliver me to _him_. Take care of any, uh, _guards_ I'm _sure_ he'll have and leave _him_ to _me_. Just, uh, just follow my _lead_. Now about the _girl_ here," he looked to the driver who was looking back with dark beady eyes through the rearview mirror. "_You_ take her in and, uh, she acts as a_ hostage_. _Stage_ it as such. Do _not_ let her out of your fucking _sight_. Oh, and if you harm one fucking _hair_ on her _head_ I'll kill you _so fast_ you won't even see it _coming_. _Got it_?"

The man in the driver's seat nodded cautiously. "Mmmhmm."

She watched as he stared ahead at the man's reflection. He didn't smile and he didn't laugh. He simply stared at him. It brought new meaning to the phrase, "If looks could kill." She supposed this was his silent way of putting fear into the man as she watched the driver begin to squirm and twitch uncomfortably. His eyes darted away from the mirror.

"_Good_," he was turned to her now. "Cover me up, _sweetness_."

She looked at him for a long moment before nodding at him. She heard the others busying themselves with loading their guns. She moved so that she was kneeling on the floor of the car in front of their seats. She poked a hole in the top of the bag with her hand, stretching it out. She reached out and bent his head down, sliding the bag over the front of him with his head sticking out the hole she had made. He smiled at her as he lay down on the seat and she fanned another bag out on top of his legs, covering all of him except his head.

She caught him staring at her and she locked gazes with him. She didn't want to stop looking at him. She felt wrong doing this. It felt like she was setting him up for his own death, like she was somehow going to be responsible for his death if something happened to him. She shuddered at the thought.

He couldn't stop looking at her. The way she looked in that dress, kneeling down like that. _Fuck_. It was taking everything in his power not to forget about all of this and have sex with her right here. He knew he couldn't. He had to do his job. Why the hell did she look so…_scared_? _Was she scared?_ She was looking at him _differently_, almost like she wouldn't see him again. Maybe she was already planning on running. Maybe this was too much for her. Or was she scared of something else? _Oh my god_. Could she _actually_ be scared that something would happen to _him_? _Oh, what a woman_. His well being was the _last_ thing she needed to worry about.

"The _last_ bag," he whispered. "_Trust_ me, Angeline."

She sighed heavily as she nodded at him. She choked back a lump in her throat as she held the last bag above his head. She paused to stroke her thumb along his scars before she covered up his head with the last bag. It was taking everything she had in her to not break down crying looking down at him like that. It scared the shit out of her. So scared that she was almost glad he couldn't see her right now.

He heard her whisper to him, "I love you."

He licked at his lips and cleared his throat before he set the order. "_Showtime_, boys! Let's _go_ before I fucking _suffocate_!"

The next thing she knew the men behind her and the driver were out of the car and had the door next to her open. She felt two cold, sweaty hands grab onto her arms and pull her out of the car. The same hands held her in place as she watched several other men grab hold of him. They pulled him out and started carrying him towards the club, careful to keep the bags on him while he was careful to lie perfectly still. Someone shut the door as the man holding onto her tugged on her arm hard, pulling her along with the other men. Her heart was beating fast and she felt hot tears starting to stream down her face. Well, at least she looked the part of a hostage now.

"It's all right," the man whispered to her. "I _won't_ touch you. _Can't_. Just can't. Boss would _kill_ me. He's got such a _temper_. You got nothing to worry about while he's alive, you know? Well, except him getting mad at you. Don't piss him off. You definitely shouldn't do that. That's _bad_. _Always_ bad. You'll want to stay on his _good_ side. Get on his _bad_ side and, well, you _might_ end up like Steve back there. Of course if he _dies_….well. Then you've got some problems. Maybe _I'd_ be a problem then. So maybe you should stay on _my_ good side too. Just in case. You know I'm pretty _crazy_ myself."

She shifted her eyes away from the man she loved being carried away to look up at the driver. In the light of the street lamps she could see his dark eyes and messy, stringy black hair hanging in his face. He had a smile plastered to his face and a kind of nervous twitch. He made little high-pitched choking laugh-like noises along with his twitches. Crazy was the fucking understatement of the year.

"Thanks, uh," she hesitated. "Sorry, but I didn't really get any names. I'll keep all of that in mind, though."

"Schiff," he replied between hiccup-like laughs. "Thomas Schiff. Just call me Schiff, though. Boss calls me Schiff. I like Schiff. Much better. Schiff is much better than Thomas, really. I never liked Thomas. I like Schiff, though. Do you? Do you like Schiff?"

She averted her eyes away from Schiff and zeroed her gaze back on Jack. She nodded. "Oh, uh, yeah. Schiff is a great name."

They were at the doors now and her heart rate sped back up. Not because Schiff had placed a cold pistol against the skin of her face for show, but because she just didn't like the thought of something going wrong with this plan. She needed this to be over. Needed him to be ok. Needed to be in his arms again. Needed _all_ of him.

Two men answered the door. Their gazes fell straight to Jack's lanky body covered by those bags. "What the fuck is _this_ shit?"

One of the men, who happened to be holding Jack's upper body, spoke, smiling. "Delivery for Mr. Gambol."

One of the men who had answered the door pulled a gun out and aimed it them. "Is this a fucking _joke_, nut job? Huh?"

"No, not a _joke_. More like…Joke-_er_. Word on the street is Gambol's offering a reward for the Joker, dead or alive. See, we've killed the Joker and we just want our reward. That's all."

The man holding the gun nodded, looking for a moment at the bag. He turned his attention to Angeline, pointing his gun to her and Schiff instead. "What's that all about, then?"

Schiff's grip tightened as he let out a few more hiccup-like laughs. "Not to worry. Nope. She's mine. Killed the Joker. Gotta celebrate. What better way than to take a woman? Hmm?"

She cringed and shuddered. She was breathing in short gasps and felt a few hot tears streaming down her face again. If she was being completely honest with herself, she didn't know how much of this was her putting on a show and how much was her real fears for Jack.

The man lowered his gun and nodded. "Whatever. This way, then."

The men opened the doors and she watched as Jack was carried in. He was doing a great job at not moving and playing dead. Only what was his plan now? Oh god. What if it didn't work? No, he was strong. He was smart. It had to work. He knew what he was doing. Still, she couldn't help but worry as Schiff tugged her along with him inside the building. The room they were standing in was an empty bar with an adjacent room with a pool table.

"Wait here," Gambol's men held their hands up as the men carrying Jack came to a halt.

"Looks like we're in _luck_. Lots of seats. I like seats. Good view for the show, too," Schiff murmured, laughing into her ear.

She saw a large black man in a suit look up from the pool table and walk forward as his men entered the room. His own men came out and took Jack into Gambol's room themselves, laying him on the pool table. Jack's men looked around the room, probably searching it for more guards or any other signs of trouble. Gambol looked like trouble and she felt her heart quicken even more when she saw the look on his face. It was clear he was very pleased to have the "body" of the Joker. It was obvious this man hated him and would be more than thrilled to thoroughly dispose of the Joker and this made her…unbelievably angry. She wanted him to die. She actually wanted Jack…no, _Joker_, to get up and kill this man. _Oh god_.

"Come on," Schiff whispered, tugging at her. "Have a seat. I won't bite. It'll be over soon."

Schiff had sat down on one of the many large bar stools outside of the game room. They were out of the view for the men in the other room, but they could see clearly into the room. She refused to sit, especially in his disgusting lap, so she stood with his arms wrapped around her waist. He was securing her from running into the other room and offing Gambol herself.

She watched helplessly, plotting in her mind a way to break free of Schiff and run to Jack's aid if the need should arise. Anger surged through her like she'd never felt before as Gambol tore the bag off Jack's face. He lay there motionless, his eyes closed. She wanted to fucking strangle Gambol as he smiled approvingly down at what he thought was the body of the Joker. She wanted to kill him, to wipe that fucking smug look off his face as he turned away from the "body."

She didn't have to want anymore. In a split second Jack…_Joker_ had sprung up, knife in hand, behind Gambol and had him in a strong hold. He then had Gambol turned around to face him, the blade of his knife stuck inside Gambol's mouth. Joker's men had Gambol's men down on their knees with guns pointed to their heads. She actually felt goose bumps and not from fear. She was actually happy to see Joker wiping that smug look off of Gambol's face.

She watched still as Joker began to tell Gambol about his scars. She was reminded of the first time she had met him in the vault when he told her a similar story and she had laughed at him, not believing a word he had said. Was this something he always used? Like a joke? If so, what was the punch line?

"Why so serious?" Joker turned his gaze innocently to one of Gamobol's terrified men and slid his knife effortlessly across Gambol's mouth, carving all the way to his ear as Gambol dropped to the floor bleeding, unconscious, and dying.

There it was. That was the punch line; _death_. This should have been the same punch line she had received, but it wasn't. Now, here she was in this bar, being restrained by a bumbling lunatic, watching the man she loved carve the face of another man like a fucking pumpkin. _Funny_ how fate worked. _Funny_ that she was _smiling_ as Gambol lay bleeding to death on the floor. _Funny_ that she couldn't _wait_ to be in the arms of the man who had just slaughtered two people with a simple flick of his wrist and a sharp knife.

She jolted out of her train of thought when she heard a loud snap. Joker stood staring at two halves of a broken pool cue. He threw one to the ground in front of Gambol's horrified men.

Finally he was walking towards the door, towards her. She heard him utter to the men, "Make it fast."

She squirmed in Schiff's grasp until he let her go as Joker…Jack strode into the room, his gaze falling immediately to hers. She ran over to him and immediately threw her arms around him, tears streaming down her face. He lifted her up off the ground, holding her to him, her chin resting on his shoulder, her cheek against his neck, as he briskly walked out the door behind Schiff.

"Why are you _crying_, Angel?" he mused. "Did I _finally_ scare you? Huh?"

"Yes," she admitted.

"Then why are you uh, _gripping_ onto me for dear life instead of running the fuck away from me?"

"Because _you_ didn't scare me. The thought of _losing you_ scared me. The thought of something going wrong. God, you should have fucking told me the whole plan! I had no idea what was going on! That was ridiculou…"

He cut her off, laughing slightly. "So, uh, you weren't scared by me _slaughtering_ a man in there, but you were scared because you thought _something_ might _happen_ to _me_? _Really_? Angel, you're fucking _crazy_."

He set her back down on her feet outside of the car now and looked into her eyes. He couldn't believe it. She was still standing here with him after all of that. He didn't know whether to be happy or pissed.

"Maybe I _am_ crazy. You know I was _happy_ you killed him."

He looked at her, shocked. "_Happy_? That I _killed_ him?"

"He hated you. The way he looked when he saw you…when he thought you were dead. I wanted to kill him myself, but you beat me to it. That bastard deserved it."

He grinned wide at her as he opened the car door. "You're _right_. That bastard _did_ deserve it. Y'know, you're sounding more and _more_ like a regular old _psychopath_, Angel. It's, uh, making me kind of _horny_, actually. _Get in_."

She climbed inside the car as he swiftly slid in next to her, closing the door. He kissed her slow and hard. When she opened her eyes for a brief moment, she caught sight of Schiff's eyes looking through the mirror. She broke the kiss off, looking around the car; realizing Schiff was the only other one with them. "_Not here_. Where are the others? What's going on?"

He shrugged, trailing kisses down along her neck and shoulders, murmuring into her skin. "They're judging the _tryouts_. I told them to uh, _make it fast_ so we could get back to our, uh, _business_ back _home_. Should be back out _any_ moment now. At least they _better_ be. Or I'll kill _all_ of them for making me _wait_."

She moaned at his kisses, desperately trying to contain herself since she could still see that pervert Schiff watching them. "_Tryouts_?"

He laughed, skimming his lips along her cleavage. "Didn't think I'd let his men skip home and live _happily ever after_, did you? No_, no_, Angel. _That_ just wouldn't be _me_, wouldn't be as much _fun_. I am a, uh, _fair_ man, though. I'm willing to let one of them _live_ and join my ranks. See, with Steve's _unfortunate passing_, I've only got _one_ spot open and I'm just _not good_ at making on the spot _decisions_ like that. So, well, _they_ get to decide _for_ me. May the uh, _best_ man _win_ and all that _shit_."

"Ah," she replied, running her fingers through his hair as he trailed kisses and nipped at her cleavage. "Seems pretty _fair_."

He was looking at her face now. It wasn't fair how good she looked in that dress, that's for sure. How perfectly it showed off her amazing boobs. _No_. It wasn't _fair_ how fucking badly he wanted her right now. Wasn't _fair_ at all that he had to _wait_.

She gazed back at him, tired of feeling Schiff's gaze on her; she laid her head down on his lap, still looking up at him. She could hear his breathing quicken at first and then become more controlled. He rested one hand on her waist, rubbing her gently with his thumb and holding her there.

Suddenly the doors opened and the remaining men piled into the back. There was no new team member with them. Jack smiled a half grin, simply asking. "All that _time_ and no _winner_?"

"They refused to fight each other so we killed them both,"

"Aw what a _pity_. Such a _waste_. _Drive_. I need to get _home_. _Now_."

He looked down into her face as she looked back up at him. The car started and they were off towards home again. Whether it was good or bad that she still lay in his arms looking up at him like that, he didn't know. Come to think of it, he didn't _care_ anymore about whether this was right or wrong. There wasn't much else he could do to fight the inevitable anymore. Maybe it was time he finally accept the truth too. She was _his_ and he…he _wanted_ her. He wanted her more than he'd ever wanted anything else in his life.

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**A BRIEF NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR**- To all who have been reading this story first off I thank you so much for your continued interest and sticking with it. I hope this chapter will keep you continuing to come back. I must also apologize that this one took me quite a bit longer to get out than it usually takes me. I've had a busy and semi-stressful couple of weeks. If you will bare with me, I promise you I will continue to keep writing this story, because it's something I have loved doing and will continue to love doing, but it may take me a bit longer to get each chapter coming out for a little while. There's a lot of stuff coming up in my life and some family/friend issues have arisen that may keep me from writing as much as I normally do and would like to. Again, this doesn't mean I'm stopping writing with this story, it just means it may take longer than a week or two for there to be any updates (this doesn't mean I'm planning on going a month or several months without updating, I promise it won't be that bad). I hope that if you're still with me in this story that you'll continue to hang on until the end. I'll take you to the end, I promise. Again, thank you to all who have read and enjoyed this story that I have IMMENSELY enjoyed writing. Everyone take care and I hope you enjoyed this chapter as I was quite fond of it myself. Feel free to drop me a review or a message as I will be sure to get back to you. Thank you again and everyone take care!

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**Disclaimer**- I do not own the characters, guys. Wish I did, but I don't. Credit goes to all responsible for the already established characters (DC Comics, Nolan, Warner Bros....etc). However, Angeline is mine. I don't say this with every chapter, but it's always implied.


	11. His

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Angeline felt the car finally come to a stop. The lights in the car were off and Jack was still staring down at her. They hadn't taken their eyes off each other the entire drive.

He licked his lips and smiled, flinging the door open. "It's, uh, it's been _fun_ boys, but I've got things to _do_ now."

She was about to get up when he wrapped his arms around her, cradling her to him, and pulled her out of the car along with him. He carried her to the garage door as the SUV drove off into the night, its headlights still off. He set her down on her feet as he bent to unlock the door and lifted it halfway again. He looked down at the door and back up at her. "Am I, uh, gonna have to pull you through again, Angel?"

She smiled at him and shook her head. "No. I think I can manage on my own. Unless, of course, you _want_ to. If you do, well, I'm not going to _stop_ you."

He stepped closer to her and moved a strand of hair out of her face, placing it behind her ear. "Y'know, normally the, uh, the whole _idea_ of a woman who can't do _shit_ for herself and needs a fucking _guy_ to do _everything_ for her just _sickens_ me, but _you_…" he licked his lips and looked straight into her eyes, his face directly in front of hers now, his voice lowering. "_You_ aren't like _that_. No. You can _handle_ your _own_ and I gotta tell ya, Angel, I _really_ like that. But, uh, _sometimes_ a guy, like _me_, needs to feel _needed_ for more than, uh, than just _sex_…Y'know, who am I kidding, really? I _want_ to do it because it _really_ fucking turns me on _rolling_ you around on the ground like that and having _control_ of you."

She watched him duck to the ground and roll himself through the door. This time she didn't see the tattered brown shoes tapping impatiently on the other side. Now she saw a long, shadowed outline of purple. Both of his arms emerged from the other side, his purple gloved hands motioning quickly for her to come to him.

She dropped to the ground and felt his hands wrap tightly around her as he rolled her inside, stopping with himself on top of her. She looked at him and smiled, laughing slightly. "You know something? You're lucky I fucking _love_ you."

He looked down at her quizzically. "Oh yeah? Tell me, why _is_ that _exactly_? Hm?"

She reached up and grabbed his face in her hands, feeling his scars against her palms. She pulled his lips hard against hers and kissed him, parting her lips to bring her tongue to his.

"You, uh," he ran his tongue along her lips and then his own. "You have a _point_."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "What? No comeback about how it's just my own _stupidity_ and someday I'll come to my fucking senses and realize that you're in fact the _scum_ of the universe and that I shouldn't really love you because you're so incredibly _horrible_ and _undeserving _of that love?"

He stood up and pulled her with him, placing his lips against her ear. "No. _Not anymore, _sweetness. But, uh, glad to see that you still _get_ it."

"What do you mean _not anymore_?"

"I mean, _not anymore_. See, I'm out of ways to, uh, _scare_ you into leaving like you _should_. You watched me _kill_ two men tonight and _yet_ here you are, still in _my arms_ when that's honestly the _last_ fucking place you _should_ be. You know me _inside_ and _out_ now and, uh, you're sitting here telling me you, uh, you _love _me instead of telling me to go to _hell_ where I _belong_. I, uh, I still don't know whether that's good or bad, but uh, I don't _care_ anymore. I've got _nothing_ left. I've done _everything_ I could think of to chase you away, pulled out all my _tricks_ aside from _killing_ you, but uh, I can't…_won't_ do that. So…well, uh, here I am, I guess."

She moved her head to kiss him several times on the lips. "I love you, Jack, and I _think_, in your own way you just told me that you love me too."

He stared at her for a long moment before he licked his lips and cleared his throat. "I, uh, I _don't_ remember saying _that_, but, uh, _interpret_ my words as you _wish_."

She smiled at him and trailed kisses along his scars. "I'm _yours_, you know?"

He paused before he grinned wide at her and whispered, "I know."

The next thing she knew he had lifted her up, her top half hanging over his shoulder, held in place by one strong arm below her butt. He quickly lifted one of his legs and stepped on the handle of the garage door, kicking it shut. He was taking off with her in the darkness, she couldn't see anything still, and she could just hear the steady sound of his breathing and his footsteps. He must have been walking fast because it wasn't long before she heard the sound of his shoes hitting the metal of the stairs and she soon saw light again in the hallway. She expected him to put her down when they reached the top, but he still held onto her as he opened the door to his room and kicked it shut behind them.

The room was dark aside from the bits of city lights shining through the small crack of the curtains on the window. She felt him shift her off of him and found herself lying on the bed. She looked up at him standing in front of her. He wasn't moving and he wasn't talking either. He just stood there staring at her. _Shit_. _What now?_

"What's wrong?" her voice finally broke the unknowing silence.

He hesitated, still taking in the sight of her lying there on his bed _willingly_ like that. He still didn't know whether this was right or wrong. He hated the conflicting feelings he kept having. "Nothing."

She sat up on her knees on the bed, still only coming about chin level with him. _Damn he was tall._ She reached up and placed her palm on his cheek, gently stroking his scar that she had noticed curved up unlike the other that went straight. She heard him let out a long and heavy sigh as his eyes closed. She smiled and pulled his face down to her level and brought her lips to his. His lips didn't hesitate and were moving hurriedly along with her as one of his purple gloved hands found the back of her head, gripping onto her, holding her to him.

When her lips were free for a moment she whispered, "I'm _here_, Jack. I _love_ you. I _mean_ it. I'm _not_ going anywhere."

He opened his eyes and stared back into hers. She _was_ here. She had a _point_ there, he had to admit. She also _didn't_ seem to be going anywhere despite his best and most _creative_ efforts to convince her otherwise. He _knew_ she wasn't going to leave. _God, she looks so fucking hot in that dress_. Wrong or right, he didn't give a fuck anymore. He _needed_ her. _Now_. "I know, Angel. I _know_."

She looked back at him and smiled. _Why was he so…irresistible?_ She needed him _bad_. She needed to be as close to him as she possibly could. No more of this shit. She was getting what she wanted…what she _needed_.

She kissed him hard on his lips, running her tongue along them before she reached up and ran her hand along the worn fabric of his purple coat to his arm, all the way up until her fingers found the warm skin of his wrist. She tightened her fingers around his wrist and pulled his hand down in front of her. She pulled the glove off his hand and tossed it to the floor. She caught his suspicious look and smiled at him before she reached for his other hand and did the same.

He brought his hands to her perfect face and cupped her cheeks. He brought his lips to hers hard, pushing his tongue inside, needing to taste her. He tilted her head back with his hands and brought his lips to her exposed neck; kissing, licking, and biting her. He thrilled when he heard a soft moan escape her lips. He felt her hands up at his chest, pulling on the lapel of his purple overcoat on both sides. A small laugh escaped his lips as he moved slightly and shrugged out of his coat with her help. Her hands were already tugging on the worn fabric of his blue undercoat. He laughed a little more as he shrugged out of that one too and one of her hands clutched at his tie, pulling his face down to hers. "_Patience_, Angel. A little, uh, _hot and bothered_ hm?"

She ran her tongue along his lips and smiled at him. "Patience is a, uh, virtue that I _lack_."

The last time she had thrown his own words back at him like that he had been so fucking angry that he could have killed her. Hell, he'd wanted to. Now, though, it actually turned him on. He was actually turned on hearing this woman throw his own words back at him. _Fuck_. This was _insane_. Even for _him_. He fucking knew it, but he still didn't care anymore. He wanted it far too much to care anymore. He _was_ a _man_, after all and _no_ man in his right fucking mind could resist this.

She pulled his tie off and threw it to the ground as she felt his lips at her neck and his hand roaming along her body. _God, did he know how to please a woman._ She hurriedly undid the buttons of his worn green vest, noticing briefly that one of his buttons was missing. _Oh shit._ She couldn't help the moan that came out as he bit just the right spot on her neck. She pushed the vest off his shoulders as he quickly shrugged out of it, his lips still on her neck, as it hit the floor.

She brought her lips to his, kissing him long and hard, tasting him, as she pulled the straps of his suspenders down, letting them hang down around his butt and legs. She felt him biting down on her lips and his hands had found the zipper on the back of her dress, sliding it down all the way. She was briefly relieved as she _liked_ this dress and hoped it wouldn't get destroyed like her last. She set her own hands to work undoing the buttons of his shirt. As she got to the last button she felt his warm hands at her back, unclasping her bra.

They pulled apart, breathing heavily, to look at each other. _Really _look at each other. His lips pulled up into a half grin, his eyes wild with desire. She smiled back at him, her eyes filled with the same desire as she ran her hands along his bare chest, over the many scars there, and up to his shoulders. She pulled his shirt off of him, brushed her lips along his neck, biting slightly, and whispered into his ear, "I love you, Jack. I _need_ you."

He watched as she trailed her lips along his chest, her hands running along his body as well. Her lips trailed down to his stomach and he sucked in his breath as she stopped at his pants. He watched as her hands quickly undid his pants and slid then down past his knees with ease this time. _Minx_. His excitement was evident now. He felt her tongue running along his entire length. That did it for him. He couldn't resist anymore. He lifted her up and slid her dress down, dropping it to the floor along with her bra. He tossed her back onto the bed and quickly stepped out of the rest of his pants and his shoes.

She watched him climb on top of her, his face above hers hungry with desire. She thrilled as she felt his bare, warm body pressed against hers. Her breathing quickened as his lips made their way down past her neck to her shoulders and then her breasts. She was gasping as his tongue ran along one of her nipples, biting, with his other hand was rubbing between her thighs. She could feel him pressing against her, teasing her. She arched her hips against him, begging him. He moved his hips now against hers in rhythm, still teasing.

He felt her hands knot into his hair, her body writhing below him. He brought his face to hers, kissing her hard. They were both practically gasping for air.

She looked up at him, almost pained, digging her nails into his back and knotting her hand harder still into his hair. She begged him, "Jack. _Please_. I _need_ you. Please?"

He looked down at her and nodded as he kissed her and moved her legs apart. Their eyes met as he moved inside of her. A moan escaped her lips as she raised her hips to meet him, pushing him as far in as he could go. Their eyes stayed locked a few moments longer as they started to move faster together.

Her eyes left his as her arms wrapped around him, pressing his body tightly to hers. Their lips found each other again, their kisses as hurried and fast as their bodies moving together. It wasn't long before her back arched and she dug her nails into his back, gasping his name. "Jack. I love you."

He looked down at her, gasping for his own breath as he continued to move with her. She'd said his _real_ name this time. She knew who he was inside and out. She _truly_ knew _him_ and yet here she was. Something in his mind clicked and for the first time that he could remember he felt truly connected with someone. He felt something _real _as he gasped his shuddered release.

He looked down at her and she was looking back up at him smiling, still trying to catch her own breath. She was _beautiful_ and she was _his_. _All his_. He placed his lips to hers, kissing her, before he collapsed to his side, his head resting on her breast. He closed his eyes as he felt one of her arms wrap around him, holding him to her. He felt her other hand in his hair, toying gently with his messy green tinged curls. He wrapped his own arm around her as he heard her breathe a contented sigh, her breathing slowed to normal. The last thing he heard before he drifted into a content unconsciousness for the first time in _years_ was _her heartbeat_ as he lay in her arms.

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-**A NOTE FROM YOUR FRIENDLY NEIGHBORHOOD AUTHOR: **Hey, everyone. Sorry it took so long. It's been a rather BUSY rather stressful few weeks here. I hope this was worth your wait. I didn't want to force myself to write when I wasn't feeling it because I wanted to be able to continue to give this story my all as I have done with every previous chapter as well. I waited until I really felt the urge to write and about an hour later I had this chapter written out for you. Again I really hope it was worth your wait as I am sorry it has taken as long as it has to get this on here. However, I have sad news for you. I may not have another chapter until next year...don't freak out! It's ok! I just mean not until January something. Possibly mid-late January, but I promise you that I haven't given up on this and forgotten about it. It's just going to be a busy, family seeing, stress at work, exhausting month or so. Hang in there with me. : ) Thanks again to all my readers. I love you all for reading! Take care and Happy Holiday's to everyone! -


	12. Find Her and You Get The Joker

Miranda Burton strode into the Gotham MCU building. A dark haired, tired looking woman cop peered up from her desk at her. "May I help you, miss?"

Miranda straightened her shoulders and cleared her throat, hoping that her voice wouldn't sound weak to this woman. This was her last hope, she couldn't screw this up. "Jim Gordon. I need to speak with Jim Gordon right away, please."

The dark haired woman looked at her for a moment before she hesitantly spoke in a clipped tone. "Look, ma'am, he's kind of busy right now."

Miranda glared down at the woman. "No, you don't understand. You're not turning me away like everyone else. Not today. I have to speak with Jim Gordon. _Now_."

The dark haired woman stared at her for a moment and nodded. "Fine. His office is down the hall to your left. I can't guarantee you that he'll see you, though."

Miranda peered down at the name plate on the woman's desk. "Thank you, Detective Ramirez."

Ramirez glanced up at her quickly uttering, "Sure."

Miranda strode down the hall to Lieutenant Gordon's office. She reached the door and hesitantly knocked lightly against the glass.

"Come in," Gordon's voice called from inside.

Miranda turned the knob and walked inside. She closed the door behind her and stood in the doorway as Gordon glanced up from his desk at her, confused.

"Ma'am? I'm awfully busy right now, but perhaps if you were to see Detective Ramirez out there she'd be more than glad to help you with whatever it is you…"

Miranda cut him off, walking towards his desk, placing her hands down on it and leaning her face forward to look him straight in the eyes. "No. She can't help me. See, I've tried everything, Lieutenant. Nobody can help me or even cares to help me. Nobody except maybe you. I believe you're the only person who can help me now, Lieutenant Gordon. Please."

Gordon stared at the woman for a moment. She looked very tired and he already knew that he would probably help her. He couldn't help it. His job was to help those who needed help and to protect the people of Gotham. He couldn't turn this poor tired woman away. He nodded at her and motioned to the chair in front of his desk. "Have a seat."

Miranda smiled quickly at Gordon and sat in the seat, keeping eye contact with him. "Thank you."

Gordon nodded at her and leaned forward in his chair, pushing his mound of paperwork to the side with one hand. "So, how can I help you?"

Miranda opened her small purse and pulled a folded piece of newspaper out, placing it on Gordon's desk in front of him. "Do you know anything about this?"

Gordon opened the piece of newspaper and glanced down at it, studying the headline which read, "Another Gotham Bank Robbed: Joker Still Prime Suspect." He glanced back at the woman and cleared his throat. "This was the third bank robbed in a string of bank robberies. We pinned the Joker and his masked clown lackeys to it. Joker's a hard man to catch though, but we're working quite diligently on that if that's what you're wondering."

Miranda shook her head, laughing slightly. "No. Everybody knows that. Look, I don't care about that. I mean I do want him caught, but I'm here because what nobody else seems to know or care about is someone actually went missing that day when the bank was robbed. A woman, actually. She was a coworker of mine by the name of Angeline Perkins."

"Missing?" Gordon asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes. I was there the day they robbed the bank. She was in the vault and I was out front. I saw him go in the vault and I never saw her come back out. I just heard him leave. He's got her and nobody's doing a damn thing about it."

Gordon stared at the woman, "Who's got her? Nothing was ever filed on this case about a missing woman."

Miranda laughed and shook her head, "Who do you think? The Joker. Of course nobody filed anything, why bother? All anyone seems to care about in Gotham is unmasking the god damned Batman or taking down the mob. Who gives a shit about the citizens of Gotham who are in trouble and need help? Why even bother to save someone the Joker kidnapped when odds are she's probably already dead with him, right? But nothing's been found. Nobody can prove she's dead. To me, that means there's a chance she could still be alive by some divine grace of whatever God still exists in this hell."

Gordon shook his head and spoke softly to the woman, "With the Joker, just because an actual body hasn't been found it doesn't mean she's not dead. If he took her she's probably not alive anymore and if she is she's probably wishing she was."

Miranda sucked in a huge breath, trying not to lose control of her emotions. "My _point_, Lieutenant, is she could still be alive. If he has her and you find her then I'm sure you'll find _him_. Find her and you get the Joker, Lieutenant. Find the Joker and you instantly become Gotham's hero."

Gordon sighed, "I've never set out to be Gotham's hero, miss. I don't need glory, but I want him caught just as much as anyone else. Trust me on that. I want nothing more than to see that psychopath behind bars and to see Gotham become a better, safer place for my family and every other family in this town. If this woman is still alive I'd love to see her found, just like you. I'd like to believe she's at least got a chance, but there's very little we can do."

Miranda took a deep breath and nodded. "So you'll help, then? You'll try to find her?"

"The key word here is _try_, ma'am. I'll do everything in my power to at least try to see that she's being searched for, but I need you to understand something. There's a lot more than just one missing woman going on out there, a lot more lives at stake. I can't promise you that on top of everything else that we can find her. I'd be lying if I made that promise."

Miranda closed her eyes and tilted her head down. "I understand. Just try and find her. That's all I'm asking. She deserves that much."

Gordon sat back in his chair, "Everyone deserves that much. Now, as far as information on her what do you have for me to go on?"

Miranda reached back into her purse and pulled out a picture. She set it on the desk in front of Gordon and waited until he picked the photo up to speak. "That was taken about a year and a half ago at an office party. Her features haven't changed much. She still looks the same as she does there, or at least she should."

Gordon studied the picture of the young woman. She smiled back at him from the picture, her arms wrapped around a man who had his arms wrapped around her too; he smiled just as happily as the woman. "And this man? Who is he? Is he looking for her too?"

Miranda shook her head, glancing in another direction. "No. That was her boyfriend Eric. Eric died the night the fear toxins went out. She has nobody."

Gordon set the picture of the smiling couple down on his desk. "The best I can do is put this picture of her out along with her name. That way people at least know to look for her."

"Will you tell him? Will he be looking for her?"

Gordon stared at the woman, confused. "Tell who?"

Miranda smiled up at him slightly. "The Batman."

Gordon laughed a little and shifted in his seat. "We don't have to tell him anything. He finds things out on his own. So, I'm sure he'll know to look for her, if that's what you're asking."

Miranda stood from her chair and walked to the door. She rested her hand on the knob and turned back to Gordon. "I just figure that maybe if _he_ knew then her chances might be a little better. A girl can cling to some kind of hope, you know?"

"Listen, I'm sure it'll be fine. We'll do our best. Don't worry yourself over it or beat yourself up over it."

Miranda smiled at him. "I can sleep easier at night now at least knowing I did all that was in _my _power to be a good person for that girl, Lieutenant. I know you are too. As long as we tried, that's all that matters, right?"

"I like to think so. I hope she's found in time."

Miranda nodded, turning the knob in her hand. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Gordon called after the woman as she disappeared down the hallway. He sighed and looked down again at the picture of the happy smiling young woman. He hoped that somehow she would be found safe, but he knew that it just wasn't very likely. He went to bed every night troubled with the fact that it just wasn't possible to save everyone, or to fix everything.

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**AUTHOR'S NOTE**- To anyone still reading I'm sorry this took so long to update. I'm working a lot more diligently on this now I promise, and I believe we've got about 3 more chapters until the end of this so hang on I WILL finish. Thank you all who have stuck with me through this all I appreciate it. Sorry about the lack of Joker in this chapter, guys. That's what took me so long to finish this because it was really weird writing a chapter without him, and let's be honest, not as much fun. I promise though he'll be in the rest of the chapters and trust me that this chapter, though Jokerless, was necessary. Hope you enjoy it anyways! : )


	13. Fire

He opened his eyes to the first signs of the morning sunlight shining into the room through the small crack in the curtains. The light was shining right in his fucking face too. Now he remembered why he preferred the dark.

As his senses were coming back to him, he noticed an odd sensation under his cheek. Why the hell was his pillow so fucking _warm_? He moved to lift his head and knew immediately when he heard that odd sound of skin unsticking from skin that he was, in fact, not laying on his fucking dilapidated pillow.

He quickly recoiled away from the body he had been lying on. He stared down at the beautiful naked body lying next to him. _His Angel_. Memories from the night before began flooding through his mind as a smile formed on his mangled lips. He spotted the smears of white, red, and black make-up scattered along her body and his smile grew wider. He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head, trying to keep his laughter to himself. He was worse than a fucking cheap painted up _whore_ at getting make-up everywhere. Or maybe he _was_ a cheap painted up whore. Either way there was still make-up all over the fucking place.

He stared down at her for a few moments, watching the steady rise and fall of her breasts while she slept. He reached out and moved her hair out of her face, his fingers brushing against her warm cheek. He quickly pulled his hand away and leaned away, afraid he had woken her up. He hadn't. She stirred in her sleep and moved closer to his body, her hand wrapping up around his waist. _This was fucking insane._ Even in her sleep she wanted him. He stared down at her face as he stroked her soft hand lightly with his calloused thumb. _Fuck_.

He lightly picked up her hand, moved it off his waist and rolled out of bed as silently as he could. He continued to watch her while she slept and kept feeling stranger. He was wondering if maybe he was still in some kind of a foggy bliss from the mother of all fucking orgasms he had last night. Yeah. That must be it.

He shook his head and stretched his body out. He looked down at himself and realized that he should probably throw his fucking clothes on before he left the house. Of course since he already fit the description of a painted up whore why not go out and shoot for being the crazy fucking naked guy with his dick swaying around like an elephant trunk? _No._ He just needed to get out and clear his head and it would probably be best if he was clothed. He spotted a crumpled up pile of clothes on the floor by the foot of the bed. He picked up the pile and threw down the purple dress. It would also probably be best if he didn't go out wearing a fucking dress too, although he figured the color would probably look good on him at least. He threw his own clothes on in a hurry.

As he was pulling his purple coat on he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. All of his make-up was gone except for some black that still lingered around his always dark eyes. _Great._ Now instead of a painted up whore he looked like a mutilated whiny fucking Emo kid. He started to move towards his bathroom and stopped. _Fuck it_. He just needed to get the hell out of here for a little while to clear his mind so he'd just leave it like that.

He had his hand on the door knob and was about to leave when he heard movement on the bed. _Shit, he'd woken her up. _He quickly turned and glanced back at the bed. She had just rolled over onto the side he had been on. He stared at her for another moment and felt several very different urges all at once. First, he felt the urge to jump back into bed and pick up where they had left off last night. Second, he felt the urge to take his old blanket and cover her with it; maybe kiss her on the cheek before he left. And third, he felt like he wanted to run far away from here and never come back.

He silently cursed himself as he bent and grabbed his old blanket off the floor. He covered her in the blanket quickly. He couldn't kiss her or his other urge would take over and he knew he needed to clear his head. Covering her was enough. He headed back to the door and was about to leave when he heard her.

"Jack? Where are you going?"

_Shit._ "To Hell."

She rolled her eyes up at him. "If you're going to Hell, then so am I."

He sighed, sitting on the bed next to her. "No, you're not."

She reached out and grabbed his hand, holding onto it. "Do you have to go?"

He smiled slightly at her. "Well, Angel, I don't think that's up to _me_. Last I checked I'm definitely _not_ God."

She laughed and squeezed his hand. "Jack, I wasn't talking about _that_. I mean _now_. Do you have to leave?"

"I have to work sometime, Angel."

She sat up and smiled at him. The blanket he had covered her with rested in her lap. "Really? That's a _shame_. I guess there's nothing I can do to convince you to stay, then?"

He smiled. "I'd be lying if I said it wasn't, uh, _tempting_ to stay."

She pulled him down on top of her, kissing him hard. "So stay."

He trailed kisses from her lips, along her jaw, then to her ear. "I, uh, I believe we've been through this before, haven't we? Work first, fuck later."

She moaned. "How long will you be gone?"

"Not long."

She ran her fingertips along his scarred lips. "Promise?"

He rolled to his side next to her, clasping his hand to her cheek. "I'm a man of my word, sweetness."

She tucked her arm inside his purple coat and pulled herself tight against him. His arm wrapped around her. They lay there in each other's arms for as long as he could stand it. He kissed her long and hard on the lips.

"I have to go."

She kissed him back urgently several times. "I know."

He placed his hand on the back of her head pulling her to his lips once more. "Don't, uh, don't miss me _too_ much."

She watched as he got off the bed and made his way towards the door. As he was turning the knob she called to him, "Jack?"

He turned towards her, his hand still on the doorknob. He didn't answer he just locked his eyes with hers.

"I love you."

He paused a moment longer, biting down on his lip, his eyes still locked with hers. "I, uh, I _believe_ you."

He kept her gaze a moment longer, then turned the knob and left the room. He was reaching for his key to lock the door and thought better of it. He was pretty confident she wasn't going to run from him now. He knew she'd be there when he got back, waiting to fuck him again. He fought the urge to turn back around and go back in for her as he raced down the metal stairs and through the darkened lower level to reach the door. He pulled the door open fast, ducked under it, and slammed it shut with his foot.

The morning air was cool against his face, the breeze blowing through his greasy green curls. He set off walking down the abandoned alley. He wouldn't go far. He just needed to think. He was just beginning to walk down the empty alley, laughing to himself, when he heard footsteps. _Shit._ He silenced his laughter and reached inside his coat, grabbing hold of his favorite knife. He spotted a shadowed area against the building where he could watch the person walk down the alley and could probably jump him before he even knew he was there. He grinned as he backed against the cool brick wall, his fingers tightening around the handle of his blade.

The footsteps were coming closer and their pace had quickened. He could hear the breath of the runner huffing and puffing as he silenced his own, his heartbeat quickening in the anticipation of the attack. _You certainly picked the wrong fucking alley to go for your little joy run down, didn't you?_ He kept his bubbling laughter inside, knowing he'd have a much bigger laugh when he got to slit the runner's throat.

As the runner's footsteps got close to him, he jumped out of the cover of the shadow, grabbing the runner in a choke hold from behind with one arm and placing a knife to his throat with the other. He drew his mouth closer to the runner's ear, "Didn't your mother ever teach you that it's not a good _idea_ to go prancing down fucking abandoned alleys, hm? Oh, and I wouldn't _scream_ either if I was you. Won't, uh, won't make any difference for you and it'll just give me a splitting fucking headache."

He felt the runner trembling in his grasp and could hear little shuddering gasps. He _loved_ this. He could almost _smell_ the fear.

"Boss! It's just me! D-don't kill me! P-please don't kill me!"

He quickly spun the runner around to face him, still keeping the knife pressed to his throat, breaking the skin slightly. "_Schiff_?! You'd better have a _very_ fucking good reason for being here you gutless moron!"

Schiff's mouth twitched as he stared scared up into his eyes. "Had to tell you something. _Had_ to. It _is_ important. It's very important, I promise. You gotta believe me, boss! You _gotta_!"

He laughed slightly, and then shoved his whiny little lackey to the ground hard. He growled down at him, "No, no. I don't _gotta_ believe anything, Schiff. Especially not from _you_. I'm, uh, I'm _curious_ as to what made you think you should _ever_ come running down this alley like that. Haven't you ever heard of a fucking _phone_, Schiff?"

Schiff's shaky hands clutched to something at his side. He didn't dare try to get back up. "I know. I know, but it was _too_ important for the phone. Least, I'm pretty sure it is. P-please, boss, it's _really_ important. Big time. I- I wouldn't come down here if it wasn't. J-just looking out for you."

He rolled his eyes at the pathetic waste of a man on the ground in front of him. He gestured down to him with his knife, "Yeah? I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm able to take care of my own fucking self, Schiff. I'm not a quivering little coward like _you_. I don't need your _help_."

He was crouched on the ground now above Schiff, his knife pressed against his quivering lip.

"I know! _I know_! P-please it's important! I'll _show_ you! Please!"

He looked down at Schiff almost apologetically and patted his cheek roughly with one hand. He spoke in a chillingly soothing voice. "Shh, shh. I'm going to let you show me, Schiff. Show me and hope to whatever _god_ you believe in that it's _very_ fucking important or I'm, uh, I'm going to _kill_ you. Got it?"

Schiff nodded carefully, tears and sweat leaking down his face. He clutched at the rolled up newspaper in his hand and lifted it with a shaky arm into the air for him to grab. "It's right here. S-see for yourself."

He glared down at Schiff and yanked the paper out of his hand. He opened it expecting to see some sort of headline about soaring milk prices or some other unimportant thing, but he didn't. When he opened the paper he saw _fire_.

On the first page of the paper he clutched in his hands, smiling back at him in the arms of another fucking man was _his_ Angel. The photo was accompanied with the word missing in big bold letters, along with her name and last known whereabouts.

He heard her words again. Burning through his head like fire.

_"Nobody is going to come avenging my disappearance. I doubt anyone even gives a shit. You're safe, ok?"_

_"His name was Eric. Eric Harvey. He was the only man I've ever loved_."

"_Don't you get it? This is how it __has__ to be. You save me and I'll save you_."

"_I love you, Jack. I don't know how it happened, but it did._"

"_I __love__ you. I __meant__ that. I'm __not__ going anywhere, __ever__. Nothing changes that. __Nothing__._"

His fingers curled tightly around the paper, scrunching it up. He clenched his jaw tight, feeling the fire coursing through him. "Well, that certainly _is_ important isn't it? Get up. _Now_. Look's like we've got _work_ to do."

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**A SMALL NOTE FROM YOUR FRIENDLY LITTLE AUTHOR- **Sorry it took a little longer than I expected. I hope it was worth the wait and I promise I'm still working on it so you will see an update as soon as I can crank out and edit another chapter. I hope you're all still enjoying it and hanging on with me. Thanks again for reading and I hope you liked this chapter!


	14. There Are No Happy Endings

-_"Nobody loves or hates more passionately than a madman." _-

She heard the door open and she smiled. That hadn't taken long at all. She finished zipping her dress and turned to sit on the bed, facing the door. She was happy he was home and couldn't wait for him to crawl into bed with her. She couldn't wait to feel his rough hands on her and his mangled lips pressed into hers.

"Hi _honey_," he slammed the door behind him, the walls and window shook. He stood next to the door, staring at her. "I'm home."

Something felt off. His tone was slightly different from what he normally used around her. It seemed more like when they had first met. It sounded more nasally and with more of an acid edge to it. Plus he had slammed the door. Well, she was used to him being overly rough with things, not realizing, or caring for that matter, about his own strength. Still, he didn't usually use that amount of force just to close the door. No, something was definitely wrong. _Shit._

"What's wrong, Jack?"

Ah, she was quick to pick up on things, his Angel. "Nothing's wrong, _cupcake_. I just _missed_ you."

She smiled at him. Maybe she had imagined exactly how hard he had slammed the door. She struggled to swallow the lump of fear that had risen in her throat. She hesitantly lifted her arms up to reach out for him.

"I missed you too. I'm glad you're back."

He smiled slightly and stepped towards her, taking her face in his hands. He tilted her face up to look at him. Holding her there like that, it took every ounce of control he had not to snap her neck in anger. "Oh I _bet_ you did. Listen, I want you to, uh, do me a _favor_, sweetness."

She smiled cautiously against his warm calloused hands pressed on either side of her face. She struggled again to choke down the still growing lump of fear in her throat. She didn't like the way this felt. Something was definitely still off. He wasn't hurting her like he could, like he _had_, but he wasn't exactly being as gentle as he could either. She didn't like the way his eye's looked either. Even though there was no harsh black make-up masking them they looked just as dark as they would when he wore the make-up, when he was _the Joker_.

"You know I'd do anything for you, Jack."

A small laugh escaped his half smile. "Of _course_ you would, sweetness. I need you to _look_ at me…"

She interrupted, confused and staring into his dark, ominous eyes. "I _am_ looking at you, Jack."

His grip on her face instantly tightened, the half smile gone from his lips. "No, no. You wait until I'm _finished_ talking. Oh, and _stop_ calling me _Jack_."

_Oh god._ Now she _knew_ something was dead wrong. She swallowed hard and nodded against his grip on her face. She silently started praying that she could somehow _fix_ whatever was wrong.

He licked his lips, nodding back at her. "Good girl. Now, as I was _saying_, I need you to look at me. Not like you're doing right now, but uh, _really_ look at me. Look me right in the eyes and, uh, tell me how you, uh, _feel_ about me again. Think you can do that for me? Huh?"

She stared into his eyes. What was he doing? Was he back on his kick of being so undeserving again? Hadn't they already gotten past that? Was he trying to push her away? Or, maybe he really was going to kill her this time. She wet her lips and cautiously placed her hands lightly on top of his. "I love you. You know that. Nothing's changed since you left this morning, Jack. I promise."

She watched his face turn from serious to full of laughter. Not just a small laugh either, but a bouncing, booming laugh. He pushed her hands off of his, taking his hands off her face. What the hell was he doing? The more she watched him shake with uncontrollable laughter, the angrier she got.

"I get it now. That's what all this is to you, then? You think this is all just the biggest fucking joke in the history of the world? You're fucking unbelievable, you know that, right?"

He shook his head, quieting his laughter. He ran a hand through his hair and bent down closer to her, his eyes no longer full of laughter, but anger. "No, no, _no_. You got it all _wrong_, sweetness. Not a, uh, not a fucking joke to _me_. To _you_, though. See, I got to hand it to you, though. You had me _fooled_ and that's not an easy thing to do, sweetness. I thought I, uh, I thought I _knew_ you."

She shook her head, frustrated as he moved away from her. "What…I have _no idea_ what the hell you're talking about. You go out this morning and you come back a _completely_ different person. I mean, Christ, Jack. You ask me to tell you how I _feel_ about you and you just turn around and laugh like it's the funniest fucking joke you've ever heard. Then you tell me that _I'm_ supposed to be the one that finds all of this to be a joke? I wasn't the one doubling over in laughter for fuck's sake. What the hell's the _matter_ with you? You believed me this morning when I told you I loved you…"

His face was completely serious again, all traces of laughter gone. "Exactly. I _did_ believe you earlier, and that's the joke, right sweetness?"

"Goddamnit, Jack! What the _hell_ are you talking about?! You aren't making any sense to me. What joke?! Please, tell me what joke I've apparently told you that's so fucking funny to you."

He lowered his face to hers again. His lips almost touching hers and his eyes locked on hers. "Oh, you _know_. The one where you tell me you _love_ me like the _lying_ little _bitch_ you are, _Angel_."

She winced at the pain in his words. He may as well have sucker punched her in the gut because it would have felt the same. She swallowed hard, struggling for air and composure. She knew the end was coming now. There'd be no fixing this, but she had to _try_. She had to try for her sake, no for _his_ sake. She shook her head slowly and her voice came out in barely a whisper. "I…I never lied to you. I swear. Please. I…I don't understand. I never…"

He placed his hand over her mouth, squeezing her cheeks as tightly as he could without breaking her jaw. He glared down at her and caught the look of terror in her eyes. It was the deer caught in headlights look of absolute fear that he had longed to see on her face when they first met. This was the look he had wanted to see in order to kill her. Looking at it now, he only felt sick. She did this. She had to have known he wouldn't let her get away with it. Why would she be afraid now? He let go of her, shoving her away from him. He turned away from her, no longer able to look at her face.

"You know what you are, Angel? You're fucking _pathetic_."

She stared dumbfounded at his back as he moved to the window. She couldn't think of anything that would make him believe what she was saying. She couldn't think of any reason he would so drastically turn on her. She knew the chance was always there for him to snap and kill her just because of who he was, but she never imagined everything would end like _this_. Something had to trigger this. She had to have done _something_. She was so mad and confused that she could cry, but she didn't dare. Not now, not in front of _him_.

She silently slid off the bed and stood watching him as he stood motionless staring out the small window. She didn't dare move any closer to him or touch him, but she had to break the unbearable silence.

"Look, obviously I've done something wrong, but I don't know what that is. You have to tell me. You have to tell me what I've done so I can try to fix it."

He laughed as he turned around to face her, his eyes full of anger. "_Fix_ it? Oh no, sweetness, there's no fixing _this_. See, the damage is already done. It's all here in black and white."

He reached inside his coat and pulled the newspaper out of his pocket and threw it at her. It landed on the floor in front of her bare feet. He watched as she bent to pick it up and saw the look of horror on her face. He smiled to himself watching as she was caught red handed in her lies now.

She looked down to find Eric's smiling face holding her. Her hands were shaking as she read the headline that she was positive she'd never see when the Joker took her. So this is what she'd done. She knew why he was mad now. She knew what this looked like and what it meant to him. Of course he'd be mad. This went against everything she had ever told him. "Oh my god…no."

"Didn't think I'd find that did you? See, now you know this _can't_ be fixed. This, uh, _this_ isn't like Back to the Future. I don't have a fucking time traveling _DeLorean_ hiding downstairs and I, uh, I don't think _you_ have one lying around either. Not that it would _matter_ anyways, though. Your lies have already been spoken and going back in time wouldn't even fix _any_ of this. We were _always_ doomed, sweetness. Doomed from the very _beginning_ to, uh, fall apart at the seams like _this_. Plus, if we could go back in time, well, I'd _kill_ you like I _should_ have back at the vault."

She blinked back the tears that so desperately wanted to come out. She believed him and she knew it probably would have been an easier ending than whatever ending awaited her now. She had known happiness for a short time, and she believed he had too. Now that would all die with her. No, she couldn't just give up now. She still had to try to get him to understand, to believe her. She couldn't just let herself die without at least trying to piece this back together.

"I…I know what this _looks_ like and I promise you I'm just as shocked as you are. I don't know who's looking for me, Jack. Eric's _dead_. I really _did_ kill him; you _have_ to believe me on that. My family shut me out _years_ ago. They wouldn't come looking for me. Jack, I…I _swear_ to you I didn't think anybody would _ever_ come looking for me. I _never_ lied to you about anything. Everything I've said to you has been the _truth_. Oh god, Jack you _have_ to believe me. Please."

He was laughing now. She sounded so weak, pathetic, and desperate to him. He was used to people begging him for mercy and this was no different. He hated that she was just like everyone else now. She was trying so hard to get him to believe her lies all over again. Didn't she get it? There was no going back now. It's over. It's all over.

He walked over to her and pulled out his knife. He grabbed her face in his hands and placed the knife at the corner of her mouth. He laughed slightly, glaring at her as he patted her cheek roughly with the hand that wasn't holding the knife to her mouth. His face was so close to hers.

"Oh, I _believe_, sweetness. I believe that you're so full of _shit_. I, uh, I may _look_ like a fucking _fool_, but I can assure you I'm _not_. The only thing you're doing here is making things _worse_ by continuing to _lie_ to me. Do _not_ fucking push me, _Angel_. You know how little _effort_ it would take for me to _kill_ you right _now_. You know how _easy_ it would be for me. I can, uh; I can _guarantee_ you that if you continue to fucking piss me off it won't be _pretty_. _Got_ it? Hm?"

She felt the tears that she could no longer control escaping her eyes now. "Why prolong any of this then, huh? If you're going to kill me, then by all means do it now. Go ahead."

He erupted into booming laughter again, shaking her along with him. He put his knife back into his coat, smiling, and shook his head, quieting the laughter. "Oh _come on_, sweetness. Thought you knew me better than _that_. I'm a little _disappointed_, actually. You should know it would _never_ be that easy with _me_. Think you can just fuck up and I'll just go ahead and kill you right away? _No_. That's too _simple_, Angel. That's _not_ how I like to _do_ things. I'm _not_ going to kill you."

She felt more hot tears running down her cheeks as she smiled and let out a whimper of relief. He wasn't going to kill her; she had a chance to fix this if she was going to live. She reached out to touch him, but he quickly grabbed hold of her wrist, twisting it so hard she was sure it was broken, and spun her around. He pulled her into him from behind, her back pressed against his chest. She let out a scream of pain and felt one of his hands cup over her mouth, silencing her scream. His other arm was wrapped around her waist, still gripping her shattered wrist. She could feel his breath falling evenly on her neck.

"Don't be fucking _stupid_, Angeline. Just because I'm _not_ going to kill you doesn't mean I don't _want_ to. Just because you're _not dead_ right now doesn't mean I'm just going to _forget_ about all of this. What did you _think_ I was going to do? Did you think I was just going to turn around and _fuck_ you and we'd live _happily ever after_ together? _No_. I don't think so. You, uh, you know as well as I do that, uh, _there are no happy endings_. Why should _this_ be any different? Why should _you_ get a happily ever after? Did you _honestly_ think that's what _we_ were going to have, _princess_? Hm?"

She swallowed hard, trying to find what little voice she could have as his hand moved away from her mouth and trailed to the back of her head. "Maybe not a happily ever after, but something as close to normal happiness as you and I could get."

He laughed slightly, his lips now brushing lightly against her ear, sending shivers down her spine. "That's _funny_. It _really_ is, but, uh, you should have known better than _that_."

She turned her head slightly to look him in the eyes again. "If you aren't going to kill me, then what are you going to do?"

He laughed. "Well, I'm going _fishing_, sweetness."

"Fishing?"

"That's right. I'm, uh, I'm going _Bat-fishing_ and you're the _bait_."

"What?"

She heard his booming laughter then she felt his arm leave her waist and his hand tightening and pushing against the back of her head. He was laughing maniacally as she felt the top half of her body being pushed forward by him. The last thing she saw before everything went black was the cracked off-white wall her head was being slammed into at full speed.

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- **AUTHORS NOTE** -

- Sorry it took so long to get this one out, but I hope it was worth it! Only about 2 more chapters to go! Hope you enjoyed and hope you're all still with me. Thanks as always for reading.


	15. Lights, Camera, ACTION!

Bruce Wayne stood in his penthouse, looking out his floor-to-ceiling windows at the city below him. He heard the large flat screen TV turn on. He glanced down at his watch and he turned to see his most trusted friend, Alfred, standing in front of the TV.

"Catching the evening news, Alfred?"

Before Alfred could reply, Bruce heard the volume go up several levels. He saw the look on the newscaster's face as he was handed an urgent message. Bruce slowly walked closer to the TV, his attention now focused on it.

"Yes, uhm, I'm told we've just received an urgent message. The message comes from the criminal known as the Joker. Please be advised that the following video may not be suitable for children or the faint at heart."

Bruce exchanged a quick glance with Alfred before they both turned their attentions back to the TV. Bruce took a deep breath preparing himself for whatever the Joker had done now.

The video started off completely black, nothing could be seen. An eerie, almost chilling light laughter started.

"What's that they say in the movies? Not, uh, not break a leg. The _other_ one. Oh, that's _right_. _Lights_," his shouted command set off a light, making him visible to the camera now. A single while bulb hung above his head, crudely illuminating his marred, painted face.

His bright red awful lips formed a demented smile as he shook the camera around in his hands. "Camera."

His grotesque face became serious as he glared into the camera. His tongue shot out, running along his mangled lips. "_Action!_"

The camera moved away from his face and was turned instead on a young woman in a purple dress bound to a chair below the bulb that had previously illuminated the Joker's hideous face. The woman's head hung down, her tousled black hair fell around her face, hiding it. She made no struggle to free herself or any movements out of fear.

"Now, now, _darling_. This is _no_ time for _stage fright_, princess. Action means the camera's rolling. And, uhm, when the camera's rolling that means _you're on_."

The camera moved in closer to the woman and a purple gloved hand reached out to clench her cheeks in its forceful grip. The hand lifted her face up to the camera easily. As soon as he saw her face Bruce felt a sickening rage inside him. _That sick fuck. How could he do this to a defenseless woman? _

The woman stared into the camera. Her blue eyes were wide, bloodshot, and emotionless. Her face was covered in cuts, dark bruises, and blood; both fresh and dried. The largest cut was on her forehead. Her forehead had a long nasty gash across it, blood caking all over her face. Her appearance was more unsettling than the Joker's. Bruce had to swallow down the bile that was rising in his throat. _What the hell had he done to her? What was he __**going**__ to do to her after this?_

"Ah, _see_? _That's_ more like it. See, _sweetie,_ you're the, uh, _star_ of my little _blockbuster_ here. Why don't you go ahead and tell them your _name_, hm sweetness? I'm sure your eager public is just _dying_ to know."

The purple gloved hand let go of her face and her head lulled down again. The camera moved down with her, catching her eyes trailing away from the camera and down to the floor. Her lips moved slowly, speaking something so softly it wasn't even audible.

The Joker let out a frustrated growl. "It's not a _choice_. _Tell_ them your _name_. _Now!_"

The woman struggled slightly to lift her head back up. Her emotionless eyes moved up and locked with something. Her eyes were alight with some sort of emotion now. Bruce couldn't pinpoint it. _Was she looking at __**him**__? No. What was going on here?_

"My name," she paused, her now sad eyes still locked with something unseen beyond the camera. Her voice was weak, and sad.

"My name is Angeline Perkins."

Bruce immediately recognized the name. This was the missing woman from the bank. He remembered seeing her once beautiful and happy face in the paper and he remembered the night Gordon had told Batman to be on the lookout for her. _Oh my god. That monster._ The Joker had obviously hurt her so much she was no longer recognizable as the same smiling beauty in the paper anymore.

The camera was shifted to someone else as the Joker was seen now from behind walking towards the woman. The camera zoomed in as the Joker knelt down behind Angeline, he moved his monstrous face close to hers. He reached up to grasp her chin in his purple gloved hand, turning her face to his. Their faces were so close now that their noses were practically touching. Their eyes locked as the Joker raised her eyebrows at her and licked his lips.

"Tell me, _Angel_. What, uhm, what is the _purpose_ of this little video, hm? You know what it is more than anybody else. So go on, _tell_ me. Tell _everyone_ why you're _here_ right now. _Tell them!_"

The Joker licked his lips, his face turning angry as he roughly turned her head back to the camera. Her face was full of sadness and she was crying now. _Was she afraid? She didn't seem to be afraid of __**him**__, but she was afraid of __**something**__. _

The Joker hit his hand hard across her cheek. The scream that followed was enough to send chills down even Bruce's spine. _"Shut __**up**_!"

She looked at him for a moment, shocked, and silenced her tears. The Joker stood behind her now and moved both of his hands to her cheeks; he placed his fingers above and below her lips on each side. He looked straight into the camera, never bothering to look down at her now. His face was oddly unreadable.

"Well, it appears that, uh, that we're having slight _technical difficulties _here. Something seems to have _upset_ our lovely _star_, so I'm going to make this _easier_ on all of us. I'll talk _for_ her."

He cleared his throat briefly as his fingers started to move her lips. He sent his voice up, poorly mimicking a woman's. "Well, uhm, you _see_, Mr. Joker, the point of this video is to show everyone that I'm _obviously_ a damsel in _distress_."

Her eyes were still glazed with tears as he moved her lips with his fingers. _She was in __**pain**__. _

"So, what I'm saying here is that I'm so very scared and he's _hurt_ me _so_ much. I can't _stand _him. Please, I just need some _big, strong, man_ to come and _save_ me from this horrible _monster_. Oh, but, I don't want just _any_ old man, I want the _Batman_. Oh _please_ hurry, _Batman_! _Save me_! Save me from this awful _nightmare_!"

The Joker smiled, fluttering his eyelids dramatically. As he dropped his hands from her mangled, bloody face he was shaking with laughter. She simply closed her eyes and lowered her head again. Still laughing, he strode over to the camera and took it back in his hands again and pointed it at his smiling, awful face.

Once his laughter finally quieted his face grew serious. He licked and smacked his lips, "So, I hope for _her_ sake that, uhm, that you were watching this lovely video, _Batsy_. I _really_ do. I, uhm, I also hope that you're _fast_ because you have," he shifted his eyes upwards, pausing to think. "You have _twenty-four hours_ from now to _find _me and come and rescue the _princess_ here. That is, uh, if you even _want_ to. Oh, and _one_ more thing, _Batsy_. I'm not very _patient_ and I, uh, I get _bored_ easily."

He was laughing again as he moved the camera away from his psychotic, deranged face and dangled a detonator in front of the camera. His laughter grew louder as a flashlight turned on; revealing a large amount of wired oil drums surrounding Angeline. It was enough to completely destroy an entire building, perhaps more. On top of one of the oil drums sat a digital clock counting backwards from twenty-four hours.

The flash light turned off as the camera panned back to Angeline once more. Her head lifted slightly, her eyes were still full of tears as she looked at _him_. The camera then went back to his mangled face set in a wide eerie grin, revealing revolting yellowed, red stained teeth.

The single bulb illuminating them shut off as the video went black again. All that could be heard was the Joker's booming maniacal laughter. Bruce was positive he heard Angeline crying again behind the Joker's laughter as the video cut out completely.

Bruce balled up his fists and clenched his jaw tightly, trying to contain his anger. He turned to see Alfred's worried, but calm expression and he relaxed a little.

"Sir?"

Bruce offered his oldest and dearest friend a slight apologetic smile. "Looks like I'll be skipping dinner tonight, Alfred."

Alfred nodded knowingly as he shut off the TV. He sighed and smiled slightly. "Yes, of course, Master Bruce. No different than most nights, really. I think I can manage. Might even treat myself to a pizza."

Bruce smiled a half smile and laughed slightly. "Treat yourself to whatever you want, Alfred, and don't wait up. I have to try to save her from that psychotic asshole."

Alfred nodded as Bruce took off in a hurry out of the room. He sighed and picked up the newspaper that sat on the coffee table. "Of course you must. You've taken it upon yourself to save the entire city. Of course rescuing pretty young women from psychotic madmen is a much better way of spending your evenings than having dinner with your old smelly butler."

He heard the door shut and knew that Bruce was off to risk his life yet again. He sighed again and focused his efforts on dusting rather than to worry about the young man that he thought of as his own son possibly not coming home again. He had these same fears every time Bruce went out, but he always had faith that Bruce could handle almost anything. He only hoped he was capable of handling this psychotic madmen and that he would return home safe as well as that poor young woman.

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-**AUTHOR'S NOTE** -

- Sorry it took so long to get this up. I've been having some more slight setbacks and stress happening in my own personal life so I'm sure you can understand that my own sanity comes first before I can write a coherent chapter. As much as I love the Joker I don't think I want to BECOME him (outside of dressing up as him for Halloween and other various events, of course) for real so I have to give myself time to deal with the crap life is throwing at me. Again thank you to all of you who are still sticking with me on this story. I hope I'm still making things interesting and good for you. I'm still enjoying writing it I just haven't had as much time. Which brings me to my next topic, it may be a while till I get the next chapter out after this one. I haven't even begun to write it and I'm going to be away for two weeks trying to spend some much needed time with my family. So I can't guarantee that I will get any writing done during this vacation. So again I must ask you to continue to bear with me and just know that I still fully intend to finish it. I think I have somewhere between two or three more chapters left until the end. Hope the wait on the chapter was worth it and I hope those of you who are reading liked it. Thank you again for your reviews and for sticking with me. I promise I'll have something as soon as I possibly can. Thank you and everyone take care!


	16. It's Too Late

He shut the camera off and pulled the tape out. He handed it to Schiff who had been standing by to help with the video. He kept his eyes on Schiff, not daring to look back at Angel, though he had to admit even with the blood and the bruises she was still a hell of a lot prettier to look at than Schiff.

"Don't, uh, don't just _stand_ there _staring_ at me with your _puppy dog eyes_. Take _that_ and deliver it to the news. Make sure that they _know_ it's _urgent_. Think you can _manage_ that? Hm?"

Schiff nodded, proudly clutching the video tape in his shaky, sweaty hands. "Yes. Of course. I can do it."

Joker rolled his eyes and nodded. He half wished Schiff was the one he was going to be blowing up, but he knew he'd have his turn eventually. "I, uh, I hope so. Go. _Now_."

Schiff nodded as the Joker waved his gloved hands shooing him out of the building. He ran as fast as he could. He didn't want to let the boss down.

Joker waited until he heard the garage door slam shut. In the almost complete darkness behind him he could hear her shaky breathing. He sighed. "What's _troubling_ you, Angel?"

"Goddamn it, Jack. You _know _what's wrong. You know _all_ of this is wrong. You don't really want to kill me."

He turned toward her in the darkness and reached above her, pulling the cord to the light. He still didn't look at her. He simply gazed around at the oil drums. "You're _right_. I _don't_. I don't _want_ to kill you."

She looked up at him with hope. If it was true and he really didn't want to kill her then maybe they still had some kind of a chance. She could talk him out of this and they could leave this awful city together. Maybe they could still have the life she had wanted for them. Maybe there was still time now.

"If you don't want to kill me then let me go. Untie me, Jack and we can leave this place. We can leave this whole city and…"

He glared down at her. "_Please_, Angel. Just because I don't _want_ to kill you doesn't mean I don't _have_ to."

She stared up at him, shaking her head. Of course it was never that simple with the Joker. She should have learned that by now. "No. You _don't_. You don't _have_ to."

He locked eyes with her for a moment then licked his lips, placing his hand lightly against her cheek. His face remained serious and his voice was low. "No. I _do_. I'm a man of my word, and, uh, right about…" he paused to pull up his sleeves to glance at his watch and realized that he didn't have one. He shook his head and continued. "Well, uh, make that _soon_, all of Gotham will be viewing our little _movie_. They'll see what _I've done_ to your once _beautiful_ face and they'll all cringe in _disgust_, but then they'll all turn the other _cheek_."

He stroked his gloved thumb along her cheek, keeping his eyes on hers. "All but _one_ if I'm _right_ and I usually _am_. Because, y'see, the rest of Gotham doesn't really _care_ when something _bad_ happens to someone as long as it doesn't affect _them_ or their _loved_ ones. Do something that _does_ and they _all_ freak out. But, uh, you already _know_ that, _don't_ you, Angel?"

She studied his face for a moment. "He's _not_ coming for me just like he never came the night I killed Eric."

He smiled and patted her cheek lightly, drawing his hand away from her face. "Well, that's what we're going to _find out_, Angel. See, I'm betting the _Bat_ shows his big _ugly_ head this time because I've given him _bait_."

"Why do you want him to come here? Why is that so important to you?"

He looked at her and erupted into laughter that shook his body. Once he'd had his laugh, his face grew completely serious again. "It's quite _simple_, sweetness. See, I'm just _dying_ to meet him and, uh, _coincidentally_ so are _you_."

She let his words sink in for a moment, deciphering them until she understood. "You're luring him here to kill him, aren't you?"

He licked his lips and smiled, laughing slightly. "No, not _exactly_, sweetness. _Killing_ him is too _easy_. You don't just _kill_ a man, or a _bat_, or _whatever_ the fuck he is like _that_. That'd be a _waste_. You break him down _bit by bit_. You _crack_ his shell and get under his _skin_. That's more satisfying than a simple kill."

She shook her head, realizing then that he was serious about fucking around with this extremely dangerous man. There was no telling what Batman could do to him. "_No_. You _can't_. Jack, what if he hurts you? What if he fucking _kills_ you?"

He grinned, then placed his hand back on her cheek and moved his face down closer to hers. His lips hovered over hers. He brushed his parted lips very lightly over hers as he brought his lips to her ear, his scarred cheek pressed against her blood caked cheek. "It's a little _late_ to pretend to _care_ again don't you think, Angel? I fell for it _once_, but I'm not going to fall for your _bullshit_ again. Besides, if he _does_ kill me then I _win_. Don't you _get_ it? I don't have anything to _lose_ in this, Angel. I only stand to win or at least gain the upper hand. I'm not worried about him beating the shit out of me, in fact, I'm _anticipating_ it."

She strained to form the words that she wanted to get out. Her head was absolutely spinning. She couldn't let him do this. She couldn't let him die just to prove some kind of a point or to break apart someone as worthless as Batman. It wasn't like she didn't desire to see the Batman torn apart piece by piece, but not like _this_. Not at the risk of Jack's life. "No! _You can't_! You can't risk yourself just to break _him_. He's not worth _that_. Are you fucking _insane_?!"

He laughed lightly into her ear. "I think you already _know_ the answer to that question, Angel."

He stood up straight and took his hand away from her face again. He glanced down at her panicked, shocked face. For a moment he wanted to believe that she cared again, but he couldn't. "You, uh, you really _are_ something aren't you?"

She ignored him. "Why are you doing this, Jack?"

He smirked at her and turned his back to her, not wanting to look at her anymore. "Because I _can_."

She shook her head at him even though he wasn't looking. "No. Because of _me_. You're doing this because you're angry over that goddamned missing poster you came across."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't _flatter_ yourself, Angel."

She sighed and tried to swallow the lump that had risen in her throat again. She was right. She knew she was. "I'm not, Jack, It's _true_. You think I lied about everything I ever told you just because someone is looking for me for some reason. You refuse to believe that I never lied to you, that I don't want to be found by _anyone_, and that _I love you_. No, I think that you'd rather believe what's easier for you to believe."

He turned sharply to face her now. His dark, angry eyes glared at her. "Is _that_ what you _think_?"

"Yes. It _is_. I think it's easier for you to just accept that I lied and that I didn't ever love you than it is for you to deal with the fucking _truth_ of everything. I _get_ it, Jack. It's easier because this way you can just blow me up and then I'm gone and you can feel better about it this way because you've convinced yourself that I deserve it. You're _right_. I do deserve it. I can't argue that, but you don't. _You don't deserve to die_."

She watched his face for any sign at all that she'd gotten to him. His dark eyes stayed locked on her and his expression was the same, but she noticed him worrying slightly at his scars for a moment. She watched as he reached inside his coat and pulled out the detonator. In one swift movement he had his hand gripped hard at her cheeks, his angry face so close to hers, and the detonator dangling at the side of her face in his other hand.

"Y'know, I've _never_ liked _psychiatrists_. Never liked how they, uh, how they _think_ they _know_ what's going on in your head. They think it's that _simple_ to just tell you what your problem is and then _medicate_ you for it, but it's _not_. No. So, uh, you can _stop_ with the fucking mind games, _Doc_. It doesn't _suit_ you and it's pissing me off. I'm, uh, I'm _not_ a psychiatrist, but, uh, I'm going to go out on a _limb_ here and say that it's probably _not_ a good idea to piss off the _psycho_ holding the _detonator_, sweetness."

She looked at the detonator then at him again. He was angry and had acted out pretty fast without pausing to think. She was willing to bet that she had gotten to him if only just a little bit and that's all she really wanted. Despite his hand gripping hard at her cheeks, she let the muscles in her mouth twitch slightly as if she were about to smile.

He stared at her, trying to read her, while he kept his hand clenched hard at her cheeks. She looked just as genuine as she always had, still not scared of him or her own possible death, but he wasn't going to let her in this time. He couldn't even if he wanted to. His plan was already in motion now. He felt her mouth twitch slightly below his grasp. He let go of her then, curious, and shook the detonator slightly to remind her that he was still holding _both_ of their lives in his hand.

"Watch it, _Freud_."

She let her lips form the smile they had been twitching to make. She saw the dark glint of anger, disbelief, and curiosity in his eyes. "No. You don't like psychiatrists because they tell you what you _don't_ want to hear; _the truth_."

He laughed lightly. "Did I ever tell you what _happened_ to my last psychiatrist? Hm? It's a _good_ one."

She turned her smile into a smaller half grin, her eyes never leaving his. "I'm listening."

He grinned briefly before shifting back to serious again. "So, she thought she had me all _figured out_, like _you_. She told me what my _problem_ was, pretended to care, and told me she could _help_ me. She wanted to make it all go away and _cure_ me. But, I saw things _a little bit differently_. She was _wrong_, all wrong. There was _nothing_ wrong with me, I was _fine_. I'd never felt _better_ actually, but I happened to notice that she had a _bit_ of a, uh, _problem _of her own that needed fixing."

She hadn't even seen him reach into his pocket, but was suddenly greeted by the familiar coolness of the silver blade of his knife pressed against the corner of her already torn mouth again. She almost welcomed its sharp, cold feel. It felt normal again to have it pressed against her like this. She could see the detonator still dangling to the side of her face in his hand and noted that he wasn't pressing the blade as hard into her skin as he had before. He was holding back.

"She was too fucking _serious_ and she _never_ smiled. Everything was all _business_ to her, she never had any _fun_. So, I _helped_ her out. I gave her the _biggest_ smile she'd _ever_ have. Only I, uh, I did it for _free_."

He looked down at her, searching for some sign of fear again, but there was nothing. All he could see was her infuriating smile. He glared at her and let go of her, putting his knife away in his coat. She certainly wasn't making all of this any easier.

"Nice story, but I think we both know that if you ever visited a psychiatrist they would have carted your ass straight off to _Arkham_, Jack."

He smiled, nodding in agreement. "You're _probably right_, but I guess that's, uh, that's even _more_ reason for me to _hate_ them, hm? Because they'd _act_ like they cared when they _never really did_, and then when my _guard_ was down they'd turn their fucking backs on me. I, uh, I guess I've just always been _better off_ on my _own_."

The smile left her lips as she stared up at him. He really _did_ believe it. He truly was trying to convince himself that she had been lying to him the whole time. He wanted to believe that she was just like everyone else in this world and didn't care about him at all.

"Can I ask you a question?"

He looked at her, curious, and noticed that she was no longer smiling. He nodded slowly, bracing himself for whatever bullshit she was about to spew at him this time to convince him she was telling the truth.

"Ever since I met you, you always said that you were so good at reading people. You read through me when nobody else could and you got inside me to the _truth_. You knew the truth then, Jack. Why can't you see the truth now? Why is this any different especially when I'm not hiding anything from you?"

He stared at her for a moment, studying her. She was right, something felt off. _No_. He was right. _He had to be_. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts, and turned his back to her. "I _am_ seeing the truth, Angel. You're just _pathetically_ trying your fucking best to _convince_ me otherwise and it, uh, it _isn't_ working."

She sighed heavily, frustrated. "No, I'm not. I have nothing to hide from you, Jack. I have no reason to convince you that you're _wrong_. If you truly believed that I lied to you and that I never cared, then tell me why would I be trying so fucking hard right now just to prove that I truly _do_ love you? Why wouldn't I just be laughing about the prospect of you pitting yourself against the Batman? Why wouldn't I just be looking forward to him swooping in here and rescuing me and potentially bringing you down?"

He raked his hand through his tangled mess of hair and worried at his scars. "_I don't know_. How about _you_ tell _me_, ok? You tell me what your little fucking _plan_ is, Angel because I don't know."

"My plan was to be whatever _you_ needed me to be, Jack."

He turned around now and looked at her; really looked at her. _No_. She was telling the _truth_. _No!_ She _couldn't_ be. He stepped closer to her and cupped his hands around her face, leaning his head down to hers. His lips were practically touching hers. He fought back his irritatingly overwhelming urge to kiss her, to untie her and take her out of this ticking bomb of a building. His hands were gripping at her face when his voice finally came out low, and almost pained. "What if…What if I need you to be _dead_?"

She saw the struggle in his eyes. She wanted so badly to reach up and touch him, to make his pain go away, but she couldn't with her hands bound. So, she reached out and touched him then, the only way that she could. She brought her lips to his. His lips were frozen stiff for a few seconds which only made her kiss harder, urging his lips to yield to hers. She heard his breath coming out in small, hard, puffs through his nose as he held tighter to her face. His lips finally cooperated and they shared a long, hard, emotional kiss that she couldn't deny felt so much like a desperate ending, and she knew deep down that it probably was, which only made her kiss harder.

When their lips finally parted she felt the hot tears escaping her eyes and stinging her cut up face. She looked into his dark eyes which were blazing with some emotion that she couldn't be sure of. She swallowed back the almost choking lump that had risen in her throat to say what she needed to say to him. "Jack, just…Just tell me that that _kiss_…That it meant _nothing_ to you and I'll _stop_ fighting."

He loosened and then tightened his grasp on her face. _Fuck_. _Fuck, fuck, __**fuck**_. "Angel, I...I _can't_."

She nodded, smiling slightly, blood stained tears still running down her face. "That's all I needed to hear, but you're not going to let me go are you? You aren't going to give this up."

His hands tightened even more to her face now, _clinging_ to her. His head was full of so many thoughts he could barely think straight, barely breathe. There was so much he wanted to say and do, but he couldn't. He couldn't say or do anything. The only thing he could get out before an alarm began to beep was, "Angel."

She looked at him with fear in her eyes now. "Jack?"

He pulled his lips hard and fast to hers once more before uttering the words she knew he would. "It's…It's too _late_, Angel. _It's too fucking late_. I…"

She nodded, trying to smile while accepting her fate. "_I know_. It's OK, Jack. _It's OK_."

He held her face for a moment longer, the alarm still beeping, and looked right into her eyes, committing them to his memory. He let go of her face and reached up to pull the cord to the light bulb that hung above them. He ran off into the darkness, leaving her behind. _There was no going back now_.

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***AUTHOR'S NOTE** - Sorry it took so long to get this one up. Hope it was worth the wait for you and I hope you're still all with me for the final chapter that I'm working on now. I can't guarantee how long it's going to take me. I have loved working on this story from beginning to end and I want to make sure I give it the best ending that I can. Of course, I have always known how it would end, but I want to make sure I write it the best that I could. I just hope you can bear with me until it's done. Hopefully it won't take too long. I am thinking of possibly doing a small epilogue, but really the next chapter is pretty much the end and I hope you all like it and that anyone who's been reading is still with me for the end. Thank you again to all who have read, reviewed, favorited, story alerted, or even author alerted me. You guys are the best and I appreciate everything. Thank you!


	17. The Last Laugh

Batman approached the old abandoned warehouse that he believed the Joker had the woman in. He felt his pulse quickening as he kicked the garage door in. He stepped into complete darkness save for the little bit of light that was streaming in from the old street lamp out in the alley. He listened very closely for any signs of the Joker or the woman. He quickly found the red digital numbers of the clock that was still counting back and decided to head in that direction.

"Miss Perkins?" he called, still walking towards the clock.

She heard his unmistakable harsh, raspy voice and her mind went momentarily blank. _He was here. _He actually _did_ show up this time. Jack was _right_. _Oh god…Jack._ He was still here in this building with the Batman. _Shit_. She had to get the Batman out before it was too late. _Why did he have to show up now? Why this time?_

"You really shouldn't have come here," she spoke softly, finding her voice. "You don't know what you're walking into."

He heard her voice and was glad to know that she was still alive. He pulled a flashlight out of his belt when he reached the woman, to get a better look at her and the situation. He shined the small light down on her and cringed. She looked worse in person than she had on the television. Her face was badly wounded and caked in blood and he could swear that he saw small traces of white paint smeared along her face in a few places. Her elegant purple gown that she wore, the straps hanging down around her shoulders, was a bit of a contradiction to her beaten and sad appearance.

"I'm going to get you out of here."

She looked up at his dark, masked face when she heard his voice again. She saw the soft skin and the worried eyes of a genuine man behind that mask, not the hideous uncaring monster that she had expected to see. No, she saw a man who had just offered her a way out of here that didn't end in _death_. She thought about what it would be like to walk out of this building, to go back to her old life again; her life before _him_. She knew her answer then. To leave this behind and live a lie for the rest of her life would be far worse than staying here in this time bomb of a building and accepting her fate with _him_. There really was no choice.

"Can you stand?"

His raspy voice brought her back to reality. She looked up at him and felt his arms working behind her, untying her bound arms from the chair. She was free, but her battle was far from over now. She stretched her arms out in front of her, working the aching muscles, and looked back up at the Batman who was waiting for her to answer him.

"No, I," she regretted saying it as his hands were almost immediately reaching for her to pick her up. She shook her head and waved a hand in protest. "No, no. I can stand. What I meant was that you don't have to take me out of here. I'm fine to go on my own. Really."

He retracted his hands hesitantly and watched as she slowly started to stand on her own. She started to sway dizzily to the side and he quickly latched one arm securely around her waist, preventing her from falling and injuring herself further. He looked down at her, catching her sad blue eyes.

"Might want to rethink that."

She shook her head. She had forgotten about the whole head injury, focused instead on more important things. "No, I'm fine, really. I'm just feeling a little dizzy. That's all."

"By the looks of it you're feeling a lot more than just dizzy. Let me get you out of here safely. You need medical attention."

He wasn't going to give up very easily was he? Why did it seem that all the men in her life recently were so damn stubborn? She laughed slightly. "Yeah, well, I'm sure it, uh, I'm sure it looks worse than it actually _feels_. It's nothing really. I've suffered through worse. Look, I appreciate your offer, but I really just want to go home...on my own."

"I think you need to let me take you home."

She pushed with both of her hands on his strong arm wrapped around her. God, she didn't have time for this. She looked up at him, pleadingly. "No. Please. I…Well; I've never been much of the _damsel in distress_ type. Look, I've been through a lot, and I really just want to go home."

He loosened his hold on her. Why was she so concerned with walking out of here on her own? Something felt off about all of this.

"If I let you go, will you really go home?"

She looked right into his dark, doubtful eyes. _Shit_. He wasn't buying this at all. "Where else would I go? I can assure you that the _only_ place I want to be right now is _home_."

She meant it. She really did just want to be home, but he didn't have to know that "home" was _here_ with Jack. This was where she needed to be; where she belonged.

He slowly let go of her, making sure she could stand on her own before fully releasing her. He watched her face almost brighten with relief. Maybe she _was_ telling the truth. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

"Thank you."

She smiled at him, truly grateful for his cooperation now. He was staring back at her, reading her like Jack did, but differently. She figured he wouldn't leave on his own so she'd have to get him out. She formed a quick plan in her head. She could leave the building and hope that he would eventually follow her out before Jack showed up, then when it was safe she could come back here.

Pleased with her plan, she started to walk slowly to the door, trying to keep her awful pain and dizziness at bay. She couldn't help herself from glancing around the dark areas of the room for any signs at all of Jack. She saw nothing; nothing but the dark around her and the light from outside in front of her.

"Where is he?"

She jumped and took in a sharp breath when he grabbed hold of her arm from behind her, his raspy voice so close to her ear that it sent shivers down her spine. "What?"

He pulled her carefully around to face him, still gripping her arm. "Where is the Joker?"

He was staring at her, waiting for her to answer. She was trying not to panic, but the way he held her and looked at her made her feel very uneasy. _Fuck_. She had to answer. "I…I don't _know_. I don't. Please, just let me go. I'm sorry, but I can't help you."

He let her go, knowing that she wouldn't answer him now. He would have to follow her to make sure that she actually went home and he could question her later when they weren't in such hostile surroundings. He stood very still, watching her walk slowly towards the door again. She was almost there when a hand shot out from the shadows beside her and pulled her away as she let out a quick scream that was followed by a very easily recognizable laugh. _The Joker was __**here**__._

"Let her go, Joker."

She had screamed because she hadn't been expecting him to grab her, but now she absolutely thrilled to his touch. He had her gripped around the waist with one strong arm holding her against him. She would have laughed at the irony of being happy to be in the Joker's arms instead of the Batman's, but she couldn't manage it. She could feel his body shaking with laughter and even though she was glad to be back in his arms she was now more afraid than she had ever been before as he pulled her with him into the light to face Batman.

"Why, _hello_ there. How very, uh, _noble_ of you to come. Y'know I was _beginning_ to think that maybe you _weren't_ going to _grace_ us with your _presence_ and, uh, _crash_ our little _party _here."

Batman watched as the Joker pulled Angeline along with him into the light. He had a tight, almost intimate grip on her and her face looked frightened. The Joker of course had a huge eerie grin plastered on his face and in his free arm he held the detonator, waving it slightly for show.

"Let. Her. _Go._"

He laughed excitedly. He was certainly making it so easy and _fun_ to mess with him wasn't he? "What's that? Oh! You mean _her_?"

She felt his arm tighten around her waist, pulling her closer to him. Then she felt his lips lower to her ear, grazing over her lobe. _What was he doing?_

"So, it looks like _Batman_ here wants me to, uh, _let you go_, Angel. Sorry, _Bats' orders_."

She felt his arm loosen from around her waist and he pushed her forward, stumbling slightly, towards the Batman. Panic started to set in as she watched Batman move forward. _Shit. Were they going to start fighting now? No. No they couldn't._ She instinctively turned and lunged back at Jack, almost knocking him over as she threw her arms tightly up around his neck.

He watched with complete amusement and satisfaction as the Batman stared on, almost frozen in what looked like shock mixed with disgust. He wrapped one arm tightly around Angel again as Batman continued to look on, trying to piece everything together that he would never understand.

He grinned wide, laughing slightly, then shot his tongue out briefly to lick his lips and narrowed his eyes on the Batman, holding his attention. "Y'see, _Bats_, I'm sorry to _disappoint_ you, but, uh, not _everyone_ wants to be _saved_ by you. I'm _curious_, does that make you _angry_ or does it make you _sad_? Hm? To know that maybe you were, uh, just a _little bit too late_ this time to _save the girl_. Does it feel like you _failed_? First _her_ and, uh, who's to say that _maybe_ _all_ _of Gotham_ just might turn their backs on you _next_."

Batman simply glared on at the Joker, his raspy voice laced with hatred and anger. "They won't."

He laughed deeply, his tongue snaking out along his lips and smacking his lips before his face grew serious again. "No, you're _wrong_. _Dead_. _Wrong_. Just _wait _and you'll _see_. I'll, uh, I'll _show_ you just how much this _city_ that you _insist_ on _fighting_ for _really_ loves and _respects_ you."

Batman clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes on the Joker. It was taking everything in him to contain his anger and not attack him now and be done with all of this. He couldn't make a move, not with _her_ in his arms like that acting as his own personal shield.

"I don't need their love and respect to justify protecting them. You may have succeeded in seducing and corrupting just one citizen of Gotham with your insanity and this sick joke that you've disguised as love, Joker, but the rest of them still need me; whether they realize it or not."

She could feel him tense under her before he started to shake lightly with laughter. _Fuck_. Had he made him mad? There was no telling what he'd do now. She started to unwrap her arms from around his neck so that she could look at him. She felt him remove his arm from around her waist, placing his gloved hand firmly against her instead. Before she knew what was happening she went flying down to the cold, hard ground with one simple shove from him.

He looked down at her crumpled against the floor then cocked his head at Batman, his expression serious and his voice deep. "Y'know, you _might_ be _right_. Why don't you _go ahead_ and see if she can _still_ be _saved_, _Bats_. Let's see if you're _capable_ of undoing _corruption_."

Before she had a chance to look up she heard a hard crunch and a thud followed by an almost squeaky laughter. _Oh god, Jack._ She scrambled up in time to see Batman reaching down to grab Jack by his coat, scowling at him. Jack, of course, was returning his scowl with a perfect huge grin while he continued to laugh.

"_Very nice_, but I, uh, I think you're _forgetting_ one _very important_ point here. Hitting _me_ isn't going to save _her_."

He knew exactly how to press just the right buttons on people. She knew that better than anyone else, really. He was practically begging for the Batman to hurt him. She couldn't take it. "_Stop_! Please, stop!"

Her words did nothing to stop either of them; they didn't even turn to look at her. She watched on, a lump of fear rising up into her throat, practically choking her, as Batman almost effortlessly tossed Jack's lanky body into the wall in a blur of purple. She felt the hot tears welling up in her eyes when she heard the awful smash of his body colliding with the wall. He still wasn't fazed; he simply continued to laugh, crumpled against the wall on the floor. It was very evident that he was going to let himself be killed. He didn't care what happened to him, but she did.

She watched as Jack slowly rose to his feet, his back still against the wall next to the door, and her mind suddenly left here and went back to the one place she never wanted to go again. Everything went dark and she was frozen again, back on the street on that awful night, staring helplessly down at Eric's dead, beaten body. She could still feel the pain and the guilt searing through her, crippling her. She couldn't save him; there was nothing she could do. Eric died because of _her_, because she wasn't strong enough to conquer her fears. The man who had once meant everything to her was dead because she was too weak to save him when he needed her.

She stood on her feet, shaking the horrible memories out of her mind. Jack stood there staring down Batman, waiting, and practically _begging_ him to make his next move. He was setting himself up as a target. _No_. She wouldn't let him get hurt anymore. This had to end here. This time she _would_ save the man she loved more than anything else.

He stared at the Batman, laughing heartily. There was absolutely _nothing_ he could do that would ever really _hurt_ him. He had a pretty high tolerance to physical pain. He waited for him to throw his next punch, but that punch never came. In the quickest instant he'd ever witnessed he saw Angel run in front of him, reaching for him. He heard a quick noise of something being fired from across the room and he watched her eyes grow large and wide before she fell forward into him, limp.

He grabbed onto her, holding her up, and lifted her face with one gloved hand to his face. "Angel?"

She looked into his dark, wide eyes that held hers. "Are you… ok?"

He looked at her, confused. "What, uh, what kind of _question_ is _that_? _I'm fine_. Do you _mind_ telling me what, uh, _what the fuck just happened_, Angel?"

He looked down then, away from her face, and saw blood. There was dark, fresh crimson blood all over her and the ground. He felt her collapsing in his arms and quickly slid down the wall his back was pressed against to the ground with her.

He chose that moment to look over at the Batman with pure fire in his eyes. He stood there looking on in shock with one half raise in the air. He noticed the large scallop blades were missing from his gauntlet. He narrowed his dark eyes at him, prepared to speak his mind when he felt her shaking in his arms, gasping and short breaths.

He pulled her closer in his arms and cupped one gloved hand to her cheek, patting it gently. "Shh, shh, shh. Going to be, uh, going to be ok, Angel. _Calm down_. Just, uh, just _relax_."

He looked down at her face, she was staring back up at him, but her eyes kept trying to close. He gripped onto her tighter, shaking her slightly. "_No_! No, no, _no_, Angeline. _Stop_. _It_. Hey. Come on. _Look at me_."

She was slipping fast, but she heard him. She heard him and she listened to him. She looked at him and managed to smile as she reached up to touch his face; his beautiful scars. "I love you. I'm yours, you know."

He laughed then grew serious, his dark pained eyes never leaving hers. "I _know_, I _know_ you _are,_ but you've, uh, you've _certainly_ got a _really funny_ way of _showing_ it, _don't_ you, Angel?"

She laughed slightly, letting her hand fall from his scarred cheek. She was trying desperately to keep his face clear in her fading vision. She knew the dark waves of pain were going to take her soon; she knew what was coming for her. "I _told_ you. Remember? You save me and I'll save you."

He clenched his jaw tight, letting out a small frustrated growl. "No, _I_ told _you_ that I _don't_ need _saving_. I _meant_ it, Angel. Maybe you, uh, _maybe_ you _should_ have fucking _listened_ to _me_."

He looked down at her, so many thoughts and _feelings_ flooding through him that he thought his head was going to explode. He wasn't used to feeling _anything_. So used to being _numb_ to everything around him that he didn't know _what_ he was feeling or if he was even feeling at all. He didn't know what to do.

Her voice was barely a whisper now, the waves pulling her under faster and faster. She had only one desire left in this world. "Kiss me, Jack."

He looked down into her glazed eyes. She was giving up. She wanted to die. He clenched his jaw and shook his head. "_No_. You're _not_ giving _up_. See, I'm, uh, I'm feeling a little _selfish_ today, Angel. I don't _want_ you _running off_ to see your _darling Eric_ again. _No_. I want you to uh; I want you to fucking _stay_ _right here_ with _me_, _got it_?"

"I'm _not_ giving up. I _don't_ want Eric. I just want _you_ and I want you to _kiss_ me, Jack. Please."

He nodded slowly, clenching his jaw tight and worrying his scars. He held her eyes for a moment longer before he pulled her up close to him and pressed his lips to hers, kissing her harder and deeper than he ever had before. Her lips moved with his, and for a moment during that wonderful kiss, with his eyes closed, shutting out the world around him, he forgot about everything and felt whole again. When he finally let his lips part from hers he opened his eyes again and saw the most beautiful smile he had ever seen on her face. He stared, completely entranced with her smile and the look in her wide eyes. Then, as quickly as the smile had appeared, it faded and her eyes shut closed for the last time.

He started to shake her gently in his arms, patting at her cheek. Every muscle in his body was tense and he found it hard to breathe. His voice came out strained. "_No_, Angeline! _Come_. _On_. This, uh, _this_ _isn't_ how _fairy tales_ go, Angel. The kiss from the _handsome prince_ is usually _supposed_ to _save_ the princess, not _kill_ her. _Goddamnit, Angeline_! This, uh, this_ isn't funny_, believe it or _not_. _Open your eyes_! _Now_!"

He shook her limp body in his arms one last time for good measure. He knew it wouldn't do any good, but he had no idea what to do next. He knew she was gone. How could he not? He had too much first hand experience with death to not have recognized that final glazed over look in her eyes as she took her last breath. Usually that was his favorite part too, but this time he wasn't so sure. This time it didn't have the same appeal that it usually did when he was the one doing the killing.

He sighed, running one hand through his curly mess of tangled, greasy green tinged hair. He still held her tight with his other arm. "Aw _fuck_, Angel. _Fuck_!"

He wrapped both arms around her, holding her tightly to him, her body still warm in his arms. He closed his eyes and breathed in her sweet scent one last time, letting it fill his lungs. He planted kisses against her cheek and ear lobe, resting his lips against her ear and whispered, "Angel…_My Angel_."

He laid her carefully down on the ground in front of him and stood up. He was expecting to find the Bat still staring on dumbfounded, but he saw nothing. He didn't see a single trace of him anywhere. He stuck his hand inside his purple trench coat and pulled the detonator back out, looking around the room at all the wired drums of oil.

Glancing at the wall he had slid down he noticed something stick out of it, dripping blood. He reached out and pulled the object out of the wall with force. In his purple gloved hand he held a shiny metal scallop blade, covered in blood. He gripped it in his fist, letting his arm drop to his side and stared at where the Batman had been standing earlier, grinning. Opening up his coat, he stuck the blade inside one of his orange satin lined pockets.

He turned to take one last look at his Angel in purple before he straightened his tie and coat. He proceeded to walk briskly out of the building that he had called home for a while with her. Now it was just a building full of memories and enough gasoline to create a very stunning explosion. He walked down the alley inhaling the cool night air of a sleeping, safe Gotham City. When he reached the end of the alley he took a deep breath and hit the button on the detonator; triggering the explosion.

He loved smelling the flames, the gasoline. He loved the sound and even the color of it all, but most of all, he loved the complete _chaos_ that an explosion created. It was absolutely beautiful, really; each and every one of them stunningly unique.

Simply hearing the explosion made him feel alive again. It created a wonderful energy that flowed through him. He turned slightly to look behind him at the bright flames dancing wildly in the dark night around the wreckage of what had once been his home. He felt a small half grin begin to form on his lips as he stared on, entranced. He was almost positive that this was perhaps the most beautiful explosion he'd ever seen, and he had seen many.

He heard a car horn and turned his back on the ruined building to see a black SUV waiting ahead of him. It was time to go. He turned, walking away from the burning building, the flames still blazing wildly behind him, and he started to laugh harder than he'd ever laughed before.

**THE END**

**-AUTHOR'S **_**FINAL**_ **NOTE-**

- That's it. _Wow_. This has been an AMAZING ride. I _truly_ mean that. This seventeen chapter story here went from a vividly detailed idea I had one Sunday afternoon in August of 2008, to a very detailed outline, and finally to my very first completed story. I'm in awe really and since I finished it, I really don't know what I'm feeling. I'm feeling a lot of things really. Accomplished, proud, shocked, sad, detached...the list could probably go on, so I'll spare you that. I've enjoyed every minute of writing this story and I'm very happy with the way it turned out. I wouldn't change any of this entire experience I've had with it for the last year for ANYTHING.

Now, onto my thank you's. First of all...thanks go to DC Comics, Bob Kane, Jerry Robinson and Chris Nolan. Without them there would be no Batman, no Joker, and no Dark Knight. It was their works that I've so loved and followed that even inspired me to write this in the first place.

Second, but first in my book, I have to thank the amazingly talented Heath Ledger. Without his jaw-dropping amazing performance and take of the Joker this story would not exist. From the moment I first heard that original teaser of his voice and laugh in the very first Dark Knight teaser trailer I knew this was going to be something incredibly amazing. He did an amazing job creating a character that had so much depth and was so hauntingly and wonderfully interesting. He will be missed, but his performance(s) will never ever be forgotten. The Joker never dies.

Third, I thank my wonderful best friend who was with me _every_ step of the way. Without her I would have never picked a pen up again to write. I had given up for years until she convinced me I had talent and that I could write. I cannot ever thank her enough for that. She was also there every step of the way for me to bounce ideas off of, to call randomly in the day and ask her how I should write certain things, to read my chapters not only when I was reading them aloud to her, but when I typed them and sent them to her where she would give me the most wonderful and helpful reviews before I would even think of posting them on here. So thank you. Thank you for being there and thank you for all the laughter, for all the trips to Barnes & Noble to write and drink our favorite hot beverage, and for all the writing days that made this story what it was. This past year has been amazing.

Finally, I want to thank all of you. To everyone that ever read my story and was interested. To everyone who reviewed and let me know what you thought. To everyone that maybe was too shy or quiet to review, but put this story on your story alerts instead (though I'd LOVE to know what all of you thought, too. Story alerts are wonderful, but reviews are the icing on the cake). To everyone that has favorited this story or even me as an author. Your interest in this story helped to fuel me to finish it and to feel like I was really doing something great. Thank you. Every last one of you. I hope you enjoyed this ride as much as I did.

Lastly, this may be the end of Joker and Angeline's story together, but I'm not done writing. Please check back to read **Arkham Can Wait** as it's become the **sequel** to this. I'm very excited to continue on with this and I hope you'll join me.

Thank you again, and take care.

Yours Truly,  
foxotr

_**Bonus: The Angel Playlist**_(a compilation of songs that I listened to while writing this story and songs that reminded me of the story and/or the characters)

**Why So Serious?** - Hans Zimmer and James Newton Howard

**Mad World** - Michael Andrews

**Unintended** - Muse

**Uninvited** - Alanis Morissette

**Face to Face** - Siouxsie and The Banshees

**Ever Fallen in Love** - Thea Gilmore

**You Make Me Sick** - Egypt Central

**Outside** - Staind

**Better Than Me** - Hinder

**Ugly** - The Exies

**#1 Crush** - Garbage

**CrushCrushCrushFaint** - A Mix of Paramore and Linkin Park

**Hysteria** - Muse

**Figured You Out** - Nickelback

**I'm Too Sexy** - Right Said Fred

**Sexy Boy** - AIR

**Wicked Game** - Chris Isaac

**Closer** - NIN

**Tear You Apart** - She Wants Revenge

**Rebel Yell** - Billy Idol

**Bad Touch** - Bloodhound Gang

**Stripped** - Shiny Toy Guns

**Lying From You** - Linkin Park

**Sorry** - Buckcherry

**The Reason** - Hoobastank

**Addicted** - Saving Abel

**Send Me An Angel** - Zeromancer

**Pretty When You Cry** - VAST

**True Romance** - She Wants Revenge

**I Can't Decide** - Scissor Sisters

**Behind Blue Eyes** - Limp Bizkit

**I'm Your Villain** - Franz Ferdinand

**The Day The World Went Away (quiet version) – **NIN

**Enjoy The Silence (Harmonium) –** Depeche Mode

_**Bonus Tracks:**_

**I Am You** - Depeche Mode

**Your Joy is My Low** - IAMX

**You Spin Me Round (Like a Record)** - Dope

**Wicked Game** – Stone Sour

**Save Yourself –** Stabbing Westward

**Flames –** VAST

**Take Me With You –** VAST

**Afraid of Loving You –** Devics

9-24-10 Author's Note – I know it's been a while and I have since been back to edit several of these chapters and am still going through small edits, but I wanted to put an update on this. It may be one small paragraph that I edited in this chapter, but it's something I have been wanting to add for a while because it was depicted in a drawing that was done for me and I have always loved the idea, but never went back through and added it in. Now I finally have the excuse. A special shout out goes to **x-MexicanPunkGirl **for actually giving me an idea for another story. I have begun work on it, and am really enjoying it, but still not so sure about posting it quite yet. The story idea would be an ALTERNATE sequel to **Angel**. In my mind the way this story ended and what happens in **Arkham Can Wait** is the true storyline. However, she got it into my head to wonder "what if...?" So, perhaps one of these days I will post what I have of that story. Be on the look out for it. Again, thank you to all my readers/reviewers. It means a lot to me.


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